The Nature of Things

Trees
To be a giant and keep quiet about it,
To stay in one's own place;
To stand for the constant presence of process
And always to seem the same;
To be steady as a rock and always trembling,
Having the hard appearance of death
With the soft, fluent nature of growth,
One's Being deceptively armored,
One's Becoming deceptively vulnerable,
To be so tough, and take the light so well,
Freely providing forbidden knowledge
Of so many things about heaven and earth
For which we should otherwise have no word-
Poems or people are rarely so lovely,
And even when they have great qualities
They tend to tell you rather then exemplify
What they believe themselves to be about,
While from the moving silence of trees,
Whether in storm or calm, in leaf and naked,
Night or day, we draw conclusions of our own,
Sustaining and unnoticed as our breath,
And perilous also-though there has never been
A critical tree-about the nature of things. 

Howard Nemerov

I've spent purposeful hours in a wide range of weather this winter, drawn by the blue of the sky and the hope of the sun's warmth. It is easy to sit back in cold short days trying to wait it out until spring seems closer. But if you do, you miss so much.

Twice now I have toured older Arboretums to admire the big trees. Twice now I have come away with sense of order; a humble awe; a big smile. 

Pinus glabra

On the UNC campus in Chapel Hill we toured the Coker Arboretum in the 75 degree weather of this winter's late December.

Quercus alba

    I have been here many times, and still find gems until then unseen. Most magnificent among those grand Coker specimens I found this time was the glorious Pinus glabra. Pinus glabra is a tree found on the coastal plains of the southern United States, from southern South Carolina south to northern Florida and west to southern Louisiana. Outside of it's current range, it clearly continues to perform very well over a long period of time. I have seen this tree in more southern settings, but none as large and grand as this one.

Wonderful oaks abound in both the Coker Arboretum and the UGA campus Arboretum and many other specimens, both rare and common. All invite reflection and admiration.

Eucalyptus

Quercus stellata

In addition to the grand scale of the great grandfather trees, there is also the lure of the small scale. Would I really say "tree hugging distance"? Probably not. But especially in winter, the details reveal themselves, and capture the attention that begs for a closer look. The texture, color, and shape of tree bark is an ornamental characteristic that is very often overlooked, yet can be definitive in determining identification of a species. On a recent walk in extreme cold weather with a group of plant enthusiasts, we spent a good amount of time on the identifying details of bark, habit, branch structure. Although winter ID can be difficult, by the time the walk was over, they were much more confident and attuned to the small details, and, I think, much more appreciative of the nuances that distracted us all from the cold conditions.

Big old trees/ blue sky

Quercus nigra

Quercus rubra

Ulmus americana

Calocedrus decurrens

Betula nigra

Sequoia sempervirens

With just a little effort, one can see each tree as a member of a group, but then also as an individual. Most tree species have a recognizable habit as they mature. But not every tree will look the same over time. Careful attention to these details can reveal very special plants that stand out. Making friends with individual trees is a journey into your own sensibilities, exposing wonder, and a continuity often interrupted by our busy lives.

Eucalyptus

Firmiana simplex

The older I get, the more that continuity seems important, and there is a lot to learn from the study of trees. As Nemerov says, "Poems or people are rarely so lovely...." and rarely such exemplar models of the nature of things.

THE NATIONAL REGISTER OF BIG TREES

Without Hesitation

It's been a bear of a spring. From the dismal and brutal midwinter cold, we turned around to find ourselves in early summer. Never mind what the calendar said. Never mind that I had hardly put a dent in my winter "to do" list.

So the spring season here at the nursery began with a bang. I gave early spring classes. I tried to keep up with late winter propagation, transplanting, weeding, fertilizing, planting. I traveled to plant sales all around the southeast, opened our retail sales here at the nursery, and touched base with our wholesale customers trying to keep up with the sudden change in the weather. It has been exciting. It has been physically and mentally draining. It has been a great relief to my hungry bank accounts.
But as I have been almost too busy to notice, the cold of winter and heat of almost summer have been fighting it out over the mid section of the country. Some of my friends have been in terrible danger. Damage to structures and gardens continues. Hundreds have died in the devastation of hundreds of tornadoes. I have breezed through pictures of ruin with little time for sorrow, gratitude or even guilt.
I've been in and out of town thru the entire month of April, and had a big trip scheduled to visit my daughter in Chapel Hill NC. A longish drive up there, and another of the terrible storms thru most of the next day gave me some time to decompress a bit. I spent some time reading, and even a few extra hours asleep. Katie and I went out to a special dinner at the Saxapahaw General Store and spent time talking and laughing in the luxury of time we have not had together in years.

The next day, I had scheduled a visit to the Keith Arboretum (http://www.keitharboretum.org) . Dr Keith has been collecting plants from all over the world since the early 1970s. From humble beginnings, it has grown to over 4000 labeled woody species on 25 acres. I stopped at Trader Joe's for some great cheddar cheese and crusty bread for a picnic. The storms had cleared out and left blue sky and fresh breezes. And I had most of the day to wander the Arboretum alone.

Calocedrus decurrens

Cinnamomum chenkangeinsis

big and small conifers

Lithocarpus chinensis

Cercis canadensis 'Ace of Hearts'

Calycanthus floridus 'Athens'

Calycanthus floridus

cicada shells on Schizophragma

Juniperus rigida 'Pendula' fruit

conifer glory

Pterostyrax hispida

Pinus bungeana bark

Picea cone

Sinocalycanthus 'Venus'?

Sinocalycanthus 'Hartledge Wine'?

Tsuga chinensis

Viburnum dilatatum

Styrax

I started up the hill at the new dwarf conifer beds, photographing, taking notes, and running from one plant grouping to the next. I worked my way down the hill in the same manner, filling my camera and my notepad.

new dwarf conifer bed

After a while of frantic note and picture taking, I was getting tired and overwhelmed. Try as I might, I could not guess even genus much less species on most of the plants. I saw flowers I had never seen before on trees whose leaves seemed maybe familiar, but whose names did not. So much to see, so much more to learn.

Koi pond

I was also getting hungry, so I headed back to the truck to grab my ploughman's lunch. I walked across the driveway to the chairs by the pond and sat down in the shade to eat and watch the koi. I sat quietly, mesmerized by the huge lazy fish. The plantings around the pond gently caught my attention one by one, both out in the distance and again in the pond's reflection. It was an "Ah ha!" moment....a break in the frenzy that allowed me to really appreciate what I had in front of me.

Variegated Dogwood witches broom

After a while, I got up and went back to the truck. I put away my lunch, but also my notebook. I kept my camera just in case, but got out my earphones for listening to music. I went back out into the collection to see, not look. I walked to the tune of country songs. I strolled for hours more, gazing at the foliage contrasts, the dwarfs among giants, the fabulous colors, the amazing diversity of flower structures, a witches broom in a Dogwood, the shells of cicadas. It wasn't a day to learn everything. It was a day to enjoy.
I picked Katie up at work, and we went to a a friend's cut flower farm for a fun, and funny afternoon. WE laughed and looked and after a while we ate. It was the end of a fabulous day, with another planned for the next day. We got up the next morning, took a walk, got dressed and headed to Richmond VA to hear Mary Oliver read her poetry at St Stephen's Church.

St Stephen's Church

You have seen lines from Mary Oliver if you've read any of the blogs here. She is an amazingly gifted poet, and a champion of the beauty and majesty of the natural world. She also champions human life, and the gift of understanding. Her words are marks on a ruler by which we should all measure ourselves. This was an opportunity for my big girl and I to share one of our heroes as she spoke to us; a bonding moment for mother and child; a memory for the ages. It was all that. And it was more. She made us laugh. She made us smile. She made us wonder. And with one poem, she laid out before me the way to understand the months of spring, my days in North Carolina, my hours in the Arboretum, the minutes of the reading, that first instant with my first child.

 Don't Hesitate

Mary Oliver
 
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don't hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that's often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don't be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.