Humans try to avoid these four conditions. Old trees embrace them.
This is why I advocate taking long walks in the woods. In wooded ecosystems, we sometimes discover the ragged splendor of old trees.
On a recent walk in a hardwood forest, I rediscovered a tree I had first encountered many months ago. Rough, weathered, worn, and warped, it’s one of the most remarkable trees I have ever seen.
Want to improve your winter tree identification skills? Here’s a good tip: Look for marcescent leaves.
Marcescence describes leaves that have turned brown and are still attached to trees. These withered leaves often persist on the trees until spring.
As you might expect, marcescence isn’t a feature displayed by too many woody plants. When you see a marcescent tree or shrub, you can narrow down your ID choices to a relatively small number of species.
In the temperate woodlands of eastern North America, marcescence is often displayed by hornbeam (Carpinus), beech (Fagus), witch-hazel (Hamamelis), hophornbeam (Ostrya), and oak (Quercus).
No one is exactly sure why marcescence exists. Here are a few hypotheses:
It allows plants to photosynthesize longer into the autumn season.
It deters herbivores from browsing twigs and buds.
Marcescent trees provide shelter to animals that in turn provide nutrients to trees.
Marcescent leaves, when they finally fall off, provide pulses of nutrients to their host trees.
Marcescent leaves, when they finally fall off, smother new growth of competing woody plants in the spring.
All of these statements can be true to some degree, but it is uncertain whether any one of them is the true reason for marcescence.
Still, you and I can use marcescence to our advantage when attempting to identify woody plants. A good first step is to learn which woody plants are marcescent in our region. We can then seek out these plants, spend some time with them, and fall in love with the process.
To learn even more tips for identifying trees, consider enrolling in Trees In All Seasons. Today is the final day of the winter sale.
Also, if you’re interested in learning how to forage mushrooms this winter, consider enrolling in Foraging Wild Mushrooms. This 4-season online course is on sale until the end of today, December 23.
“The wonder is that we can see these trees and not wonder more.”
It’s no surprise that Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote these words. The famous American writer was intimately connected to trees: He planted trees, gathered their fruits, and taught his children the value of learning their names.
Emerson spoke the language of trees, yet was still humble enough to acknowledge that every encounter with trees presented a fresh opportunity to engage in wonder.
Who are you? How old are you? Why are you here? Can you say anything about the underlying rocks? What can you tell us about the broader ecosystem?
In the spirit of Ralph Waldo Emerson, you and I can ask these kinds of questions every time we encounter a tree. When we ask questions, we engage in wonder.
A basic step we can then take to answer those questions is first to learn the names of trees. Fortunately, there are many ways to learn. We can:
Study tree ID field guides
Learn how to use dichotomous keys
Learn all major physical features of trees (buds, bark, leaves, flowers, etc.)
Learn habitat characteristics of trees
Attend tree ID walks
Visit arboretums (where trees are often labeled)
Cultivate friendships with local tree enthusiasts
Teach others what we have learned
If you’re looking for a carefully curated opportunity to improve your tree identification skills, consider enrolling in Trees In All Seasons. This online course teaches you how to identify 100 trees in every season. It’s currently on sale through Monday, December 23.
Regardless of how you decide to learn, I strongly encourage you to hone your tree identification skills over time. With learning comes wonder, appreciation, love, and the unraveling of at least some of nature’s mysteries.
Cases of tick-borne diseases are on the rise, and people are wondering what to do.
Spray more repellent on clothes? Wrap more duct tape around socks? Ingest more Japanese knotweed? Cull more deer?
How about introducing more earthworms into tick-prone landscapes?
It sounds bizarre, but some ecologists are researching this latter strategy. According to a few studies, the prevalence of earthworms is associated with fewer ticks in certain ecosystems.
How is this possible? Why are earthworms associated with fewer ticks? Could the intentional release of earthworms into wild landscapes work as a viable tick-reduction strategy?
In a brand-new video, I address these fascinating questions.
In 1857, the Ohio State Legislature famously wrote:
The passenger pigeon needs no protection. Wonderfully prolific, having the vast forests of the North as its breeding grounds, traveling hundreds of miles in search of food, it is here today and elsewhere tomorrow…
Forty-five years later, the last wild passenger pigeon was shot and killed in Indiana. In 1914, the last member of the species died in captivity at the Cincinnati Zoo.
The passenger pigeon — a species once numbering in the billions — became extinct in a few short decades.
Barring a miracle in the field of de-extinction, no human alive today will ever see a living passenger pigeon that isn’t a biological novelty. No human alive today will stand in awe as massive flocks of passenger pigeons eclipse the sun and darken the skies.
But whether or not scientists actually figure out how to resurrect the dead, there is something many humans can experience today: the legacy left behind by the passenger pigeon on the North American landscape.
In a brand-new video, I discuss how the passenger pigeon profoundly altered North American forests.
Paths I Walk 
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