Spring in the Woods. May 23, 2019

Copyright © 2019                               John F. Oyler 

May 23, 2019

Spring in the Woods

Is there any spot on the earth that compare with Western Pennsylvania on a warm, sunny Spring day? One such day can make up for all the depressing days of “Pittsburgh gray” skies that preceded it. This Spring has been particularly spectacular, perhaps because it came a little later than usual.

In our woods the first signs of color are “snow drops”; their vivid white flowers are a pleasant contrast to the blanket of dead leaves that they penetrate. They are members of the amaryllis family; I assume the ones along the paths in the woods have been planted there by unknown benefactors in years gone by.

Next come the lesser celadine, also known as pilewort. Its lovely eight petalled flowers bloom in large quantities providing a lovely golden carpet in shaded areas. Its alternative name refers to its effectiveness in treating hemorrhoids, an attribute that makes up for its toxicity for domestic animals. 

This year the trillium bloomed in mid-May. They are confined to one small area near the bottom of the northern hillside bordering the “hollow” cut by our small creek. These are conventional white trillium, native to Western Pennsylvania. A few years ago we spotted a stranger in their midst, one with wine colored petals whose tips curve back together. The “trillium recurvatum” is common in the mid-West, but rare in this area. Unfortunately we have not been able to locate any samples of it in the past several years.

Right on schedule, the Mayapple plants popped up overnight and spread their miniature palm tree leaves in numerous little colonies. A few days later a few bifurcated plants joined them and, on May 6, produced blooms that I erroneously have called Mayflowers. Turns out that is the correct name for a completely different flower. Anyhow I will watch these blooms mature and produce Mayapples later in the summer.

Which, of course, reminds me of my grandchildren’s favorite riddle. If March winds bring April showers and April showers bring May flowers, what do May flowers bring? …… Pilgrims, of course!

Next on the scene are the forget-me-nots and violets, followed by the pink and white phlox. It is a wonderful coincidence that Mother Nature staggers the wildflower blooming sequence so we always have something new to enjoy. And how could I forget the buttercups – by mid-May they provided a sea of gold at the base of my wife’s memorial tree.

It is fascinating to watch the transformation in the woods when the leaves begin to come out. At first the change is minor; the brown/gray background begins to be tinted with tiny bits of green. Each day this grows slowly, then suddenly all the leaves open up and you find yourself immersed in a sea of green. 

I wonder how much of my enjoyment of Spring is the concept of renewal and hope for the future it provides. Ecclesiastes 3, 1 through 8, was one of my father’s favorite bits of scripture: “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” We seem to be in “a time to hate”; let’s hope the “time to love” comes back soon.

No sign (or sound) of our pileated woodpecker yet this year; I miss hearing her distinctive drumming. Our deer have survived the latest phase of the municipality’s “culling” program. We should be seeing newly born fawns soon.

Every year the March winds take their toll on the trees in our woods. Some of them are the result of natural pruning; dead trees that have outlived their usefulness. Unfortunately however we lose a lot of healthy, mature black cherry trees due to uprooting. This Spring two big ones, about fifty feet apart, came down in the same storm. 

In both cases the fall was by uprooting and an inspection of the fractured root system suggests that the lack of a tap root, a strong central root growing straight down, may be the culprit. Instead the whole root system projects outward radially, never going deeper into the earth than a foot or so. It is easy to imagine a wind force shearing through these roots. 

The municipality has been removing dying ash trees selectively. One of the ones they cut down brought down a neighboring dead tree which in turn fell directly upon a three-inch diameter red oak that had been planted as a memorial to the daughter of one of our neighbors. The memorial plaque on it has been salvaged; we hope it will soon be on a replacement memorial tree.

Another memorial tree that we have been watching is a small tulip tree commemorating a local naval pilot killed in Vietnam. His survivors planted “the freedom tree”, dedicated to freedom loving people around the world. It struggled to live, finally succumbed about ten years ago. Undaunted the family dug up the memorial plaque, moved to a different location, and planted a replacement tree four years ago. So far it is prospering, perhaps a sign that freedom will prevail.

Actually we are watching a number of tulip trees in the woods, including the one we planted in memory of my wife; so far it is in good shape. That isn’t the case for a handful of tulip saplings that have sprung up at different spots. Despite our best efforts about half of them have succumbed to a variety of problems – fallen branches, deer antler rubbing, etc. 

The past two weekends have been devoted to well-meaning volunteers spreading wood chips on the paths – hard work involving loading wheel barrows, hauling the chips, and then spreading them. Their motivation is not clear to me, but their dedication is impressive. For a few weeks the paths that are attacked by storm-water runoff are improved, but eventually the chips are washed away. And the paths that remain dry don’t really need chips.

One of the columnists in the daily paper is a big advocate of chipping discarded Christmas trees instead of putting them in a landfill, ultimately to decompose and discharge methane into the atmosphere. He ignores the fact that in the long run the chips will also decompose and produce greenhouse gases.

In reality the only way to reverse the assumed negative effects of the carbon cycle is to stop removing embedded hydrocarbons (coal, petroleum, and natural gas) from the earth and to begin to embed them (wood, plastic, etc.) in engineered landfills. 

The local Boy Scout troop has continued a program of trail improvement featuring small bridges over streams and boardwalks in swampy areas. Although I generally prefer keeping things natural, I 

acknowledge that making it easier for us older, less agile people to access areas of the woods that previously were unavailable to them is beneficial. It is the classic dilemma: What good is a natural asset if no one can access it?

I continue to pretend that my walks in the woods qualify as exercise and that therefore I don’t need to pedal a stationary bike or employ some other mechanical device. I suspect that the combination of my wandering off to check if the Mayapple bud has opened and my enjoying sitting on the bench at the picnic pavilion enjoying the day is counterproductive to the concept of exercise. At least I am exercising my mind.