Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Oldest tree in the world


"Methuselah", a bristlecone pine, is the oldest known tree in the world. It is, in fact, the oldest still-living organism documented on earth. (!!)

The tree in the photo above is not Methuselah. U.S. Forest service, in order to protect it's anonymity, will not disclose the exact location of the oldest-tree-in-the-world, but you get a 360 degree view of the "Methuselah Grove" here, which is in the White Mountains of California. So cool! These bristlecone pines seem to live forever.

Methuselah the tree is about 4,839 years old. That's very old. This ancient tree actually sprouted in 2832 BC and grew for about 485 years during the life (should you choose to believe this) of the Biblical Methuselah, who supposedly lived to be 969. Of course...the Biblical character would have been living somewhere in the Middle East, whereas both the oldest and the tallest trees in the world can be found in California, USA.

What a life. Imagine the stories...

(The screen shots below are taken from a Nova News Minute that can be viewed here). This is what Methuselah actually looks like:


Saturday, August 25, 2007

**YOUR TREES** [South Africa]



Many thanks to Millicent for sending me these two gorgeous tree photographs, taken on a ranch near Nylstroom, South Africa.

Do you have a great tree photo that you'd like me to post? Please feel free to send it to me at treesifyouplease {at} gmail {dot} com.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Egon Schiele


Today's featured artist is Egon Schiele, who lived from 1890 to 1918, and then died of the flu (I'm so glad I didn't live back then). He was young and Austrian. The themes of his work were often death and sex, and many of his paintings are twisted and erotic. He did many self-portraits and looking at his work, you might form an image of the quintessential "tortured artist."

Schiele was heavily influenced by his friend, Gustav Klimt - another wonderful, intriguing painter.

I am choosing, of course, to highlight his few minimalist paintings of trees - some of the best tree art I've seen. More of his work can be seen here.





Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Gum tree?


I love this tree. It is a Eucalyptus tree. But I am American. My knowledge of Eucalyptus comes from seeing various bunches of dried (and dyed?) Eucalyptus leaves in too-smelly craft stores or in the houses of women who hang a wreath for every season.

But these guys are the real deal. They could probably tell me whether there are actually pink Eucalyptus trees Down Under, and might even be offended to see what Americans are doing with the "Gum tree" leaves. Or am I showing my ignorance? Is this type of Eucalyptus even called a Gum Tree?

From what I can tell, this tree is a Eucalyptus Cinerea, also called an Argyle apple, Silver-leaved Stringybark or Mealy Stringybark. It's so pretty. And less than 50 steps away from my front door.



Sunday, August 12, 2007

Figs and Ficus



My dear friends, I apologize for my absence. I've been indisposed as of late, and am just now resurfacing. (It was a much longer recovery than I could have imagined it would be!)

Let me tell you about my latest discovery. Much to my surprise and delight, there is a fig tree, not 50 paces from my front door. I've often passed this tree on the way to the pool, and noticed the strange, bulbous green growths, but had no idea what they could be. An exited neighbor (a couple weeks ago) enlightened me that it was, in fact, a fig tree, and that there was an abundance of nearly ripe figs just about to burst.

Well, then along came my surgery and it took me quite a while to get out of the house to walk even those 50 steps with my camera. But I have recovered. I took a few (unexciting) photos, but I think I missed most of the ripe fruit, though I imagine they were bursting off the trees last week while I was lying on the couch watching the entire Season 1 and 2 of Grey's Anatomy (pathetic, I know).

I have since learned that fig trees are in the ficus genus, which I found interesting because all I really know about ficus trees is that they are finicky, hard to grow, and they drop their leaves when they aren't happy. (This could be a vast generalization based on the case of the sad little indoor ficus that the BF and his siblings killed by confining it to a dark, dreary room and throwing it only a cupful of water every few weeks. Once I found out, it was much too late to save...)

(In his defense, he's done a remarkable job watering the tomato plants as of late).

You'll see that the fig tree is also right next to a cool Eucalyptus tree. More on that tomorrow...

Thursday, July 26, 2007

"Song of the Open Road"

I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree;

Indeed, unless the billboards fall
I'll never see a tree at all.


– Ogden Nash, (1902 - 1971)

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Ginkgo Biloba


Walking through town the other day, I came upon this Ginkgo tree. I can clearly remember the first time my mom pointed out a Ginkgo to my sister and me - the distinctive shape of the leaves was forever etched in my mind and I've taken pride in being able to identifying a Ginkgo from that day forward. Not that it's difficult. Once you've seen one, you won't forget it. The fan-shaped leaves and bright golden color in the autumn make it easy to recognize.

But I've just learned something fascinating about the Ginkgo tree. It is considered a "living fossil," which basically means that it lived during ancient times, was once thought to be extinct, but then was rediscovered, and still exists today in a form very similar to the fossils of its prehistoric ancestors. The horseshoe crab and the cockroach have changed very little over millions of years, and are also considered living fossils.

Scientists do not know whether the Ginkgo tree still exists in the wild because it has been cultivated and tended for thousands of years by Chinese monks. The monks may have helped keep the species alive when it otherwise may have gone extinct. In any case, the Ginkgo is a wonderful tree. A brilliant example of longevity. And Ginkgo extract has also been used medicinally to help circulatory disorders and enhance memory.

May the Ginkgo live another 270 million years!

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

The Pride of Statesville, North Carolina


Calling all collectors of old postcards! Or Tar Heels! There is currently an exhibit of old North Carolina postcards in the North Carolina Collection Gallery in Wilson Library at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. But...if you can't get there to see it, you're in luck – North Carolina Postcards is a digital project that contains over 800 images of postcards from the Tar Heel State online (just a sampling of the more than 12,000 NC postcards held in the Photographic Archives of the North Carolina Collection at UNC Chapel Hill). It's kinda cool if you're into old postcards or historical images. Or North Carolina. You can search by location or subject, or just browse (like I did. I'm a sucker for stuff kept in the archives of any library).

While you're at it, check out "North Carolina Miscellany," to get more culture, history, and literature from the Tar Heel State. It's a blog kept by the folks over at the North Carolina Collection. I must say, North Carolina has treated me well these past 4 and a half years, though I'll always be a northern girl at heart.

DEAR CALVERT. HAVE YOU BEEN SKATING? I HAVE. DO YOU LIKE POSSUM? LOVE FROM JANE.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Hyperion, the tree


There is a new "Tallest Tree In The World." Three, in fact. Last September (2006) three giant Coast Redwoods were found to be taller than the previous record holder, Stratosphere Giant. Our new winners, Hyperion, Helios and Icarus, all put old Strat to shame. Hyperion, our beloved winner (and Tallest-Living-Thing-In-The-World) is 379.1 feet (115.55 m) tall. That's more than 72 of me stacked up on top of myself! It's also 75 feet taller than the Statue of Liberty and more than one third the height of the Eiffel Tower.

Don't you just love trees with names?

The photo above may or may not be Hyperion (probably not). The exact location of the tree is not being disclosed for fear of too many visitors who may disrupt the surrounding ecosystem, or try to climb old Hype. I don't blame them. I'd love to see these trees. We do know that they reside in a remote area of Redwood National Park in California.

Read more about it here
and here.
(That last link is a really cool website about Redwoods and has some amazing tree pictures.

Sunday, July 8, 2007

Creepy tree



Here's today's "makes-me-feel-like-I'm-in-a-scary-movie" tree.

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Emily Leonard






Today's featured artist is Emily Leonard.
Emily is “always looking for a place that hints of both past memory and future awareness.” In one of her artist statements, she describes her thoughts about space and spaces; spaces between people, places, objects... I've not seen any of these paintings in person, but my sister has, and found them "personally moving." Check out more of Emily's work: www.emilyleonard.com.

Monday, July 2, 2007

Tryst

"I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech tree or a yellow birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines."
– Henry David Thoreau

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Forever green



Some sort of interesting evergreen tree. Isn't it marvelous? Looks like dancing fingers. I just love looking at trees this closely. It makes me feel like I know a secret. I feel fairy-sized, like I can tiptoe up a branch if I wish. Click on the photos above for their full size. You'll see what I mean.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Plum tree


Today I saw a plum tree. I actually discovered it yesterday as I was taking a walk in Arlington, VA (while visiting a friend) and the sidewalk suddenly became sticky and red. I was astonished to find my feet surrounded by squished plums and exposed pits. I don't believe I'd ever even considered the existence of plum trees, and there I was, standing directly under one. I looked up and saw the little fruits hanging in small clusters and could faintly detect the unmistakable scent of fresh plum juice.

Today I returned with my camera so I could share my discovery. Are plum trees common? I have no idea. I've never encountered one before that I can recall. There were so many neglected fallen plums that I expect the novelty has worn off for those who live with the tree. But I think I would enjoy having a fruit tree in my yard. The only (and very significant) aversion I have to it is that it appears that plum trees attract squirrels. Evil, black ones. I watched as one Evil Black Squirrel would nibble a plum for a while, and then throw the rest of it to the ground, and move on to the next one. Do NOT get me started on squirrels...

Seriously. (you can see the little bastard approaching the tree if you click on the photo above and view it larger).

But back to the plum tree. It was a lovely discovery and I felt that I couldn't walk away without tasting one. There were a few plump ones on the ground, but as I couldn't be sure whether or not an Evil Black Squirrel had thrown them down, I felt it best to pick one from the tree. I did so, and took a bite, and it was delicious. A bit tart, but I suppose that's because I didn't want to risk squirrel disease and picked one slightly under ripe. I ate the rest and walked away satisfied.



Thursday, June 21, 2007

City tree


As much as I love the thought of urban life, there is something sad to me about trees in the city. They don't have the fresh air that country trees get to breathe, and I assume they can't spread their roots as easily because of the buildings and streets and sewers and everything else below street level. They always seem a little lonely and resigned, and tired. The incessant city noise must be tiring if you are a tree.

Yet, as I am planning a move to Brooklyn next year, perhaps I should begin to view city trees differently or I will undoubtedly become terribly depressed.

Looking again at my little tree friend above, I believe I can see a determined strength in it's young branches. I imagine it finds great joy in reaching as high as it can to find the sun's rays that are frequently blocked by the tall buildings. I think I would probably actually be quite pleased to come upon this little tree again when I move to NY and perhaps it's not as sad as I once thought. I certainly hope not.