Tag Archives: grove

A Screech In The Dark

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Deep in a grove of ancient massive cottonwood trees the sun has gone down turning what was earlier a bright sun filled space into one now filled with shadows and looming arboreal giants standing quietly, their enormous branches arching overhead like giant arms covered with the newly minted leaves of spring.

There was a slight breeze earlier but now all is still. Silence has settled over the grove and the slightest sound, from the rustling of a vole in the leaf strewn floor, to the footsteps of those who have come here to observe one of natures small miracles are magnified. The miracle everyone wants to see is a small puff of feathers slightly larger than a softball called an Eastern Screech owl and she and her mate have chosen a small opening in one of the cottonwoods to nest and raise her four owlets.

The owlets are now large enough that they seem to fill the cavity within the tree to its maximum allowance of owls. They spend most of their time peering out of the opening in the massive tree limb, small little heads still covered with the light downy feathers of the very young, bobbing up and down, side to side, rotating in a circle, trying to make sense of what they see outside of the confines of the only home they’ve known.

Suddenly there is a call, a small sound that has been likened to a soft tremolo and a whinny, not the grating fingernails on the blackboard sound that comes to mind hearing it described as a screech. It is a beautiful, delicate sound that hangs in the air for a heartbeat after being uttered. Then another and another, the female perched on a nearby branch calling and coaxing, trying to get the remaining owlets to leave the nest.

Of the four owlets, two are much larger than their siblings due to something called asynchronous hatching which roughly means the eggs are laid a day or so apart maybe longer, causing the first born to have more food, grow bigger and leave the nest sooner, which is what the first two owlets have done. They haven’t gone far however as the they still need to be fed by the parents until they can fly. They are perched huddled together on a nearby branch still very much a part of the family.

The adults are now spending most of their time outside the nest on nearby branches, calling to the remaining youngsters inside, bringing them the occasional mouse or vole whichever is unlucky enough to be spotted by these silent hunters, coaxing them to leave the nest and venture forth out into the wide new world they’ve come into.

Soon full darkness has overcome the grove and those that have come here to see and enjoy this connection with nature have left, leaving these beautiful creatures to their solitude, their gentle calls still gracing the night.

To Watch A Crooked Tree

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Lots of things can be learned by watching a crooked tree. When we walk through the forest surrounded by the quiet, our footsteps barely audible against the damp soil, we slow down enough to actually look around, take in the multitude of trees standing tall and straight and think, this is the way a forest should be. All of the trees perfect specimens, their trunks straight, their leaves the perfect shade of green, their roots solidly planted in the earth.

This is what makes a forest a good forest. All the trees living their lives in perfect harmony because they are just like the other trees, both in thought and deed, they all fit together perfectly. Their stories are also the same. ” I’ve had a good life. As a sapling I was fortunate enough to be planted in a good grove, I’ve had all the water and sunlight I needed to grow strong and true. I have been sheltered from storm and winds by the others. I have never faced fire. I am a good tree.”

But then you see a crooked tree. A tree misshapen and gnarled and the recipient of much of the hardness that life has to offer. It has been bent and twisted by forces both in and out of its control and they have left their marks on the crooked tree. It is no longer straight, it shows the scars that hard times have placed on it. You stop and wonder, arrested by its appearance. There  are many questions. How is it that you are different from other trees. Are you a bad tree. Are you being punished. What has happened that you are a crooked tree. Tell me your story.

And the crooked tree does have a story and it is much different from the tall, straight tree’s story. “Many things have befallen me as I stand here before you. I too wished to be a straight, tall tree living in a perfect grove with my history all around me, proud of my standing amongst my friends and  family, the same as every other tree, but a stray breeze, nothing more than a simple zephyr, carried me to a different place, an inhospitable place for trees and I lodged between rocks and sand where there often wasn’t much water and the thought of bright clear sunlight was a distant dream. Misfortunes befell me and made long-lasting changes to my shape. A massive fallen tree dislodged in a storm fell upon me. It was years before it finally was removed but by then it had changed my shape.”

“I have had to fight for my water, my sunlight, my very survival and yet I am still here. I have been immersed in snow and frozen in cold so deep my roots began to lose their grip. Animals have tasted my leaves and branches and others, laughing at my shape have attempted to change it even more, but through it all I am here. I have produced leaves and needles, I have continuously pushed my crown towards the sky and I have succeeded for the most part. But as you can see it has left me changed. Yet through it all I am still a tree. And a tree is just a tree no matter its shape. There are many more stories that tell of events in my life that caused me to take on this shape but they are stories for another time.”

There is much to be learned from watching a crooked tree. Its shape tells part of its story but not all. One must spend more time listening with your eyes and feeling with your heart to learn what stories the tree has to tell. Some may find it worth it, but others may not. Whatever you hear or see and however you choose to accept it is up to you. Barring catastrophe the tree will still be there, misshapen or not.