TREE MAGIC / THE HUNTERS MOON
I love to watch dust-motes floating in the clear, soft, forgiving light of Autumn, shining specks dancing. They drift over quieting ponds, past White-tail Deer with their new nearly-impossible-to-see winter coats and through now-golden meadows. The nights are cooler, bringing the promise of Fall and reminding us of what is just around the seasonal corner. Goldenrods abound, along with many different species of Asters, including the ubiquitous Dogbane and Black- eyed Susan. Also abundant are White Wood-aster, Wild Marjoram, Pokeweed and Joe Pye Weed, among others. They all provide much-needed sustenance to numerous migrating bird and butterfly stragglers, as well as our year-round, stay-at-home bees. FALL - The Fall Equinox is past now. Our Ruby-throated Hummingbirds have departed on their epic 2000-mile journey (I miss them), some intrepidly crossing the 500-mile-wide Gulf of Mexico in one long sprint. The fourth (and longest-lived, at 6- 8 months) generation of Monarchs are on their way to the mountains of Michoacan in Mexico for the winter. It is still a mystery to scientists as to exactly how either of these tiny creatures navigates unfailingly to far off lands neither has ever been to. I watch the first trees turn color on the peak of Overlook, knowing that this line (the Fall Line) will gradually sweep down the steep slopes into the valley itself, to be followed in a few weeks by the Winter Line, that will do the same, changing the multihued magic of fall to the more somber brown and grey tones of winter (trying to imitate the coats of deer, perhaps?). It’s almost like the Mother has shed, first her green, “peak-of-life”, leafy cloak, then tried on her fall Cloak Of Many Colors and finally settling for the wan shades of winter (this is the reverse of when the bright-green line of Spring oh so gradually makes it way up the side of the mountain in April). But I get ahead of myself. Fall is here.
FLORAL FAUNA - And of course you can't discuss fall flora without touching on the amazing rainbow-spectacle happening all around us. Many think the leaves turn just because the weather is colder but that's only part of it. My understanding - and I'm only an amateur naturalist - is that it is a combination of factors that include changes in dryness, light and temperature, all of which generally come about right now as the sun gets lower on the horizon, shortening the days and cooling the nights. The dryness factor explains why sometimes - even in the summer - different trees will start to color if it is too dry and others (pines and hemlocks, for instance) will drop some of their leaves or needles. This is a great (and easy) time to identify trees in the forest, at least for the major species. Sugar maples range between yellow and orange hues. Red Maples will be their distinctive scarlet red (unfortunately, many have the blotchy Maple Rust and aren’t turning red) and the White Ashes, which used to be bright yellow, but no more, due to destruction by Emerald Ash Borer (EAB). The different oaks mostly turn orange (some dried Oak-leaves stay on the branch all winter, as do all the golden, desiccated leaves of the Beeches). Some of our trees (mostly Oaks) show the effects of this years Spongy Moth infestation, also-blotchy leaf-remnants on display. Not helping at all is our continuing drought, seen in dead and dying leaves, lowering pond-, reservoir- and stream-levels with mats of algae growing where they shouldn’t (like in our normally strong-flowing Sawkill). Yes, our forest is stressed now, but it will survive and every fall is beautiful in its own way. Still, I like to watch Overlook as it gradually colors from the top-down. At first you'll see a few colored specks on the summit, then as the days go by, her multihued cloak will gradually drape her entirely - nothing more beautiful! As I write this the higher Catskills are pretty much at peak-color which normally means that in another week or so us folk down in the valleys will be bathed in a maxed-out, full- spectrum deciduous awesomeness. While it was not a record mast year with tons of acorns on the forest floor, there are plenty for the Black Bears and White Tail Deer to fatten up on, with enough left over for foraging mice, Meadow Voles, Moles and Short Tail Shrews. This, in turn, keeps our mid-level predators, like all the wild canines - Eastern Coyotes, Grey- and Red Foxes - happy, as well as our numerous non-migrating birds of prey which includes various Falcons (who normally prey on other birds, but will eat small rodents in a pinch), Hawks (predominantly Red-tails hereabouts) and Owls (mostly Barred locally).
TREE MAGICIANS - Triggered by subtle (and not-so-subtle) changes in light and temperature, an incredible transformation is occurring in our forests because of amazing adaptations over millions of years to the seasonal cycles. Our hardwoods (Ash, Beech, Birch, Maple and Oak, mainly) have started their unprecedented migration. Yes, migration - a migration-in-place. These trees, which up until recently were engaging in one form of alchemy - taking dirty air from the sky (with carbon in it), bringing it into the earth, removing the carbon from it, then releasing it as pure oxygen back into the sky (basically, scrubbing our dirty air, and creating life-giving oxygen in the process - all powered by sunlight and at no charge to us) - are now consumed with performing other feats of magic: transferring their very essence or lifeblood - their sap - deep down into their roots, safely below the frost-line until summoned once again by the advent of spring; as well as shedding their once-chlorophyll-filled leaves and using them to, first insulate their newly-sap-filled roots, then to make another layer of soil - voila! Phenomenal, true magic of the common, everyday sort. The hardwoods have done their job for this season - creating clean air, providing shade for untold forest creatures (and people) smaller plants and then - as their spectacular finale - bow down and deposit another future layer of soil. On the surface of it (ha!), one might say that the trees can rest now, having seemingly finished their work for the year, but I’m not sure that the forest ever rests. In addition to the growing evidence that trees help each other when leafed out, warning each other of impending threats via wind-blown pheromones, they also have symbiotic relationships with different fungi that inhabit their roots (called Mycchorizae) and which help the trees share certain enzymes - from tree-to- tree - underground. I’m certain that this activity must continue - maybe it even increases - in the winter. Picture the bare branches blowing leaf-free in the wild winter winds, etching stark shadows on the sparkling snow, while down deep the sap is safely stored. The entire forest is connected through those vast roots, communicating its needs and exchanging nutrients amongst various members. I’ve dreamed with the forest and have had glimpses of what it is like to be The Great Tree-Tribe, a vast, inter-connected, multi-species, green and brown being that is literally the very essence of the Land, perhaps the greatest Steward of the Earth, with roots running deep and branches reaching high. Perhaps this is our ideal model for us to return to responsible stewardship of the earth, as indigenous peoples seem to know how to do.
Thank you, “Ranger” Dave Holden
(845)594-4863
Dave Holden on Facebook
rangerdaveholden on Instagram
Comments