3 posts tagged “nature”
This evening we went to Precious Princess's graduation-from-preschool picnic. As usual, it was held at Hudson Mills Metropark, about 45 minutes or so out of town.
About 50 yards from the picnic pavilion was a nice playstructure area, and after eating, my kids hightailed it over there and proceeded to get dirty. (That's what they do; I'm used to it.) I wandered over to keep half an eye on them, and after a bit I noticed that about 50 yards further still, there were some gigantormous birds pecking away near the edge of a meadow. Then I noticed what looked like maybe a chicken scampering along near their feet.
And then I realized they were a pair of sandhill cranes, with a baby! They must have had their nest nearby. I had never seen a baby one before, so I whipped out my camera and used the zoom feature to get a closer look.
Right about then I could hear my father's voice in my head, saying, "Where's your monopod?" But, since I don't have one, I just had to make do with holding the camera as steadily as I could by hand. That was a challenge, believe me, with the zoom feature.
But anyway, here are my favorite shots of the sandhill crane family.
Just got back from two weeks at the Outer Banks, North Carolina. Aaahhh...
Well, we actually arrived home on on Monday, but we've been busy since then. Unpacking, first day of first grade, unpacking, first day of preschool, unpacking... Still have a lot to unpack.
Finally got my pictures downloaded from my camera -- all 579 of them -- no, I'm not kidding. Gotta love digital!! Just snap away with wild abandon; I always do.
Herewith, my favorite beach shots:
Okay, now I grant you, these last two could have been better executed. But, considering that I didn't have a tripod (!), nor have I yet figured out how to do the manual-focus capability on my new camera, all in all I'm pretty happy with them. Anyway, for me, it just serves as a memory jogger for the real thing.
Kid pix to follow, over the next few days.
It all started with the tree.
See, the tree right in front of our house when we bought it was one of my favorite types of trees. Favorite, because of the beauty of its leaves in fall: long slender pointed ovals, shading from bright gold to deep plum with astonishingly lovely hues in between. I'd always admired this type of tree when out on walks, and was quite pleased to think I now owned one. Even though I didn't know its name at the time.
I do now, though: it was an ash.
I say "was," because not long after we moved in here, we began hearing about the dread "emerald ash borer," an invasive species of insect from Asia, against which our American ash trees had no defense. A quarantine was put into effect in Michigan to try and contain the infestation to the Southeastern counties currently dealing with the menace. No doubt this quarantine will prove ineffective and the rest of the state will, sooner or later, suffer our same fate.
All around Ann Arbor, a city known for and proud of its trees, ash trees began to die, as the voracious little pests set up shop under their bark. Leaves became sparser and sparser as the healthy bark dwindled, and along with it, the tree's ability to deliver vital fluids above. Desperate to preserve its life in any way, the tree would start popping out suckers at ground level, below the original infestation. But inevitably, this would prove futile, and even if not, unsightly.
My expert eye can spot a dying ash tree at 50 paces, now; our tree showed all the classic signs. Sparse leaves, leafless branches, crumbling bark, a thicket of bushy suckers springing up from the roots. Eventually, dead skeleton above, sickly green bush of suckers below; and after that, even the suckers wouldn't come back.
The city of Ann Arbor began removing dead ash trees from along sidewalks. Whole neighborhoods, once leafingly shaded, are now denuded of trees. And we had to have ours removed too.
It saddened me, and angered me. Who let this happen? Why isn't anyone doing anything about it? Invasive species are one of the worst curses of the Michigan ecosystem. The problem arises from a perfect storm of international politics, multinational shipping crucial to the economy of the Great Lakes region, and the tragedy of the commons. But knowing that didn't really help.
So our dead tree was cut down, the stump ground up, and we bought a new tree.
I wanted something lovely, and something not everybody had. One neighbor has a beautiful crimson maple, and a sycamore; the other neighbor has an oak. These would be among my top choices, but I also wanted to add variety to our block. So I settled on a tulip tree: Uniquely-shaped leaves, to turn gold in fall; and when mature enough, little yellow cup-shaped flowers.
So we bought a tulip tree, had it planted, watered it, and crossed our fingers. The guy who cam to install it explained that he hadn't stuffed it hard into the hole, that would be bad for the roots; give it time, it would settle in on its own. Also, we don't believe in staking trees any more either; the trunks grow stronger if you don't. Okay, I said, I'd never planted a tree before, so let's listen to the experts.
Then a couple days later we had a fierce windstorm -- fierce. The prevailing wind whips around our house, and it knocked our new tree cockeyed. Of course it was planted on a steep hill, and the fierce wind came from just the right angle needed to tilt the tree downhill. Of course I see all that now, in hindsight.
Now, instead of standing straight and tall, our new tree is leaning like a drunken sailor. In pride of place, right in front of the house, replacing our late, lamented ash tree, my new and unique and beautiful tree tilts crazily off as though looking up into the sky at something nobody else can see.
All summer long, every time I came home on walks, it annoyed me to see the tree standing there, crooked. It's too big to try and stake up now, post-hoc, to try and bend the tree so that the crown at least would point straight up. I'd be afraid of damaging the trunk, and it probably wouldn't work anyway. And I'm afraid of digging out under the root ball to try and make it "settle" back the other way; that would probably damage the roots. Is there anything I can do about it? I don't think so, which is why I haven't done anything.
My husband thinks I'm crazy, that no one else in the whole world but me would even notice.
But it's my tree.
Then, in early fall, before the leaves turned, I noticed that it likes it here. It's thriving. Far from experiencing leaf die-back due to the stress of being moved, it had even grown new little baby leaves over the summer. That must mean its roots are spreading out, wriggling deep into the soil, anchoring it ever more firmly in its current position. I can almost hear it heaving a deep sigh of satisfaction... Ahhhhh!
And it was beautiful as its unique tulip-shaped leaves turned a deep goldy-bronze for the fall.
I began to see that it would be okay. My tree might be a little cockeyed, buffeted by the winds of life; it might be observing the world from a bit of a unique perspective. But it's healthy, and it's thriving, and it is unique and it is beautiful. And we'll get to watch it grow tall, and flower.
It's my tree.
