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Archives for April 2019

Hug a Tree, Plant a Tree—Your Body Will Thank You

April 28, 2019 by Denise Brake 4 Comments

National Arbor Day was Friday. It is a day that passes unnoticed by most people, I would guess. I would hate to speculate how many people do not even know what the word ‘arbor’ means. Would more people pay attention if we called it National Tree Day? Trees are important for many reasons, but their most fundamental process is to take CO2 (carbon dioxide) out of the air for use and storage and to release O2 (oxygen) back into the air—for us to breathe. That alone should have us hugging trees, planting trees, and celebrating trees every day, with every breath we take. They are literally life to us.

Trees have been the lifeblood for Chris for forty-five years now—daily interactions that go far beyond the benevolent exchange of gases. They are a part of our family—they are grown, planted, cared for, protected, and loved. Four years ago I wrote about watching/helping him plant a tree, and I thought I would share part of that post:

Photo by Rosemarie Varner

My dear husband Chris has been planting trees for over forty years–this flowering dogwood in front of the Odessa First United Methodist Church is just one of thousands that are the legacy of his hands and spade.

Watching him plant a large tree is a study in precision and ease and of sweat and dirt.  He places the tree, then cuts a circle around it with his sharp spade.  He moves the tree aside and expertly skims the sod from the circle.  His foot steps the spade into the soil with a satisfying sound, and he lays that spadeful neatly beside the hole.  He continues to step, lift, step, lift, step, lift–making it look easy, even as the sweat starts rolling off his face and arms.  A sharp clunking sound and a jarring vibration in his hands indicate a rock, and with additional finesse and muscle, he removes it from the neat, straight-sided hole.  With the handle of his spade, he measures the correct depth so the tree is not planted too deeply or too high.  The width is one and a half times the diameter of the root ball.  He gently rolls the tree into the hole, cuts the twine and unpins the burlap from the root ball, kneeling in the dirt he just overturned.  By now his shirt is wet with sweat, and his cap and belt are dark-stained with the salty moisture.  The tree is in its place, and with a vertical, cutting motion with the spade, he tamps the soil into the hole to anchor the roots in their new home.  His ‘helper’ (me) turns on the water hose and trickles water as he tamps, and soon the hole is filled with dirt and water.  The sod is chunked into strips and lined around the hole, and the bermed crater is soaked with a slow stream of water.

Chris has planted trees of every kind and size in four states, has grown them from seed, has pruned them, watered them, moved them, cared for them, and reluctantly cut them down.  He has planted trees to memorialize people who have died and to celebrate people who are alive.  He’s a tree man through and through.

So Arbor Day for us is like ‘Eat Some Healthy Food Day’ or ‘Take a Deep Breath Day’—we do it every day with little thought and with much thought. Trees are such an important, integral part of our lives—they sustain us at the most basic level of biology and at the highest stratum of spirit. And they do that for all of us, even when we are not aware.

We wander our woods and yard with excitement each Spring, noticing each tree, examining them for rabbit, deer, or winter wind damage. Some don’t make it through the winter (or the drought or whatever the challenge), but healthy color and expectant buds of new growth are signs that all is well. Others rally from the damage with Spring rains and warm temperatures, and they carry the scars through the rest of their lives. As I walked our yard this Arbor Day, I wondered how many trees Chris has planted on our one plus acre in our eleven years here. I stopped counting at one hundred. That was without counting most of the small Oaks that he grew from seed or most of the shrubs that are just starting to get their leaves or any of the trees on the wooded hillside. Here are just a few:

Swiss Stone Pine
White Pine
Larch
Nannyberry Viburnum
Siberian Fir
Black Hills Spruce
Forsythia
Golden Ninebark
Red Pine
Norway Spruce
Chris’ tree nursery

I know I’m kind of preaching to the choir—anyone who reads my blog already appreciates trees and all the other amazing flora and fauna of Nature. But at this time on our planet, this becomes more than a matter of appreciation. Planting trees is one of the most effective ways in which we can stave off the detrimental effects of climate change. The Nature Conservancy has pledged to plant one billion trees, and Microsoft will match your donation up to $50,000. The Arbor Day Foundation has a new ‘The Time for Trees Initiative’ to plant 100 million trees by 2022. If you sign up to support The Arbor Day Foundation, you will receive ten free trees to plant on your own. Few people can make the personal difference of actually growing and planting many thousands of trees like Chris has, but all of us can make a difference by being aware of the importance of trees, by donating to organizations that plant trees, and by planting and caring for more trees in our own lives. It truly does affect the most basic level of our biology and the highest stratum of our spirits.

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Filed Under: Spring Tagged With: a matter of life and breath, Arbor Day, hug a tree, planting trees, trees

Earth Day, (Re)Birth Day, Worth Day

April 21, 2019 by Denise Brake 4 Comments

On this Easter Day and Earth Day Eve, I am struggling with writing about this convergence of really important things. What is ‘worth-it’ to us as individuals, as businesses, as a country? What values are we willing to throw under the bus to get our way for power or money or whatever reason we deem important? Why do we even celebrate Easter, Birthdays, Earth Day, church days, Spring days? We don’t celebrate for the sake of celebrating—we celebrate to honor the underlying message or value of each of those days.

We have a number of friends who have or soon will be celebrating the Birth Days of their children or grandchildren. What a glorious event to witness the birth of a new human being! But just as magnificent is witnessing the growth and development of every person, no matter their age. We never stop being worthy of being celebrated.

The Re-Birth Day of Easter is celebrated today by Christians around the world. Just when things look bleak and dark, when hope seems lost, when things do not go as they should or as planned, there is a transformation that startles us from gloom and despair to light and joy. Transformation of that magnitude deserves celebration!

Earth Day is a reminder of all the glorious, life-giving gifts that our Earth offers to us every moment of every day. It is a time when we examine what is worthwhile in our daily lives. How much worth do I place on being able to breathe clean air? Is it important to have clean water to drink, to fish in, to swim in, and for our ocean animals to live in? Should companies be allowed to emit whatever they want into the air and water, even when it is known to be harmful? What things can we do to mitigate the extreme financial, emotional, and collateral hardships that occur due to frequent extreme weather events? What is the real cost of the destruction of the rain forest? How can I make a difference? For over forty years, Earth Day has been a reminder to us of these and other questions.

The April full moon or “Pink moon” shone bright on Holy Thursday and Good Friday/Passover. It is called “Pink moon” after early-blooming Wild Ground Phlox and other pink flowers that symbolize the start of Spring. Just as ‘blue moon’ and ‘blood moon’ don’t indicate the color of the moon on the given months, the Pink Moon doesn’t represent its color. But clouds and lighting captured a pink glow nonetheless.

I like how the moon illuminated the pine needles as it ‘passed by.’

We are charged with being stewards of our Earth—caretakers of the water, air, and land. At times I feel despair that these resources are being used and abused with little thought for the world that our children and grandchildren will inherit. If we deem them worthy for our own selves, then, as caretakers, it is imperative that we make sure they will be available in the future. Celebrations are a time to honor and acknowledge the gifts of a new life, a developing, maturing life, the core values of a religious or spiritual life, and the very essence and sustenance of all our lives from the Earth. I challenge you to be an illuminating presence, full of goodness and mercy, as you pass by the people and places in your world.

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Filed Under: Spring Tagged With: birthdays, earth day, Easter, full moon

In the Midst of the Storm

April 14, 2019 by Denise Brake 2 Comments

Everyone was getting ready for it. The news people said it was another bomb cyclone headed for the upper Midwest. Who even knew what a bomb cyclone was? Why is this new term in our vocabulary, much less twice in a month’s time? Snow removal equipment that had been optimistically ‘put away’ for the season was dragged back out. Parents were expecting yet another snow day off of school. How many does that make? April 10th was the day of preparation. The birds and animals knew something was up. Lots of feeding, flurry, and frenzy. By late afternoon, the snow had begun to fall, and cancellations were being announced for just about everything for the next day.

Early in the morning of April 11th, the wind came up with a rage. It whistled through windows, forced itself through cracks in the house, moved the heat out and replaced it with a cold draft. Good thing it was April and not January. We had some inches of snow overnight that promptly got rearranged with the northeast wind. I was surprised how many birds were out trying to feed in the storm. The suet cake feeder was flung from side to side, its protective roof askew, but a Red-breasted woodpecker and a large Pileated woodpecker clung to its mesh sides.

I marveled at how long they both swung there, holding on and grabbing bites of fat and seed. Finally the Pileated woodpecker rested on the off-wind side of the Maple tree. What an incredible and unusual bird!

Dead branches and pine cones dislodged from the trees and tumbled across the yard. A White Pine branch planted itself, and the snow filled in around it.

Dark-eyed Juncos and Sparrows braved the wind to eat seeds that had blown from the feeders. They faced into the wind and only occasionally did I see one tumble across the snow.

A couple took refuge behind and under a Spirea shrub to conserve some energy and eat in peace.

At mid-morning, we had thunder and lightning and bits of hail that pelted the windows. Every type of precipitation fell that day—snow, rain, sleet, and hail, and all with the accompaniment of the fierce wind.

Early afternoon the sky and snow turned an eerie yellowish-brown color. Along with all the debris that had blown off the trees, there was now a layer of reddish-brown dirt covering the snow. Later I learned the dust was blown all the way from Texas on this cyclone of a wind.

It was hard to tell how much snow/precipitation we had that day with all the changes in state. It’s one of those things we usually take a silly pride in keeping track of—knowing how much snow or rain, how cold or hot it is on any given day. It records our days in a very concrete way—each of us our own scientist. But on this day, it didn’t even matter. It was a Spring mess we just wanted to get over in order to get to the Spring we desired.

By Friday morning, the winds had calmed down, but the snow continued. The critters continued to feed and scratch and sing—a Spring feeding with all the singing—a difference worth noting.

Along with the singing was the unmistakable sign of the imminent and unstoppable Spring—the swollen, red flower buds of the Maple tree.

After the storm, AccuWeather announced that we did not just survive a bomb cyclone—it was a ‘monster storm’ and a ‘powerhouse blizzard’—but technically did not qualify as a bomb cyclone. The pressure needs to drop 24 millibars over 24 hours of time to be considered a bomb cyclone—this one only dropped by 20 millibars. So…there…we…go. We were out of the woods on the backside of the storm. Technicalities aside, the storm was real. If it looks like, sounds like, and feels like a bomb cyclone, then so be it. In weather, we are fortunate to have meteorologists studying and forecasting what’s to come. Science is real. If only we had such forecasters for our own lives. We could get ready. We could prepare ourselves. We could make plans, stock up, let go, and drag out whatever equipment we would need for the upcoming upheaval. Instead we are caught in the raging wind, sometimes tumbled around; we hang on, find some peace, do what we have to do. We plant ourselves in a new reality and let the chips fall where they may. We are battered, yet brave. In the midst of the storm, there is singing—along with an imminent pull towards the future. It is a difference worth noting.

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Filed Under: Spring Tagged With: birds, bomb cyclone, snow, storms, woodpeckers

The Sentry Awaiting Spring

April 7, 2019 by Denise Brake Leave a Comment

It seemed like no one lived here over the long frigid months of Winter—the ice and feet of snow covered the moving, living, reflecting body of water. I know for certain there were frogs of various sorts, turtles with their colorful, hard-shelled homes carried on their backs, crayfish, and densely-furred, rat-tailed muskrats buried under mud and stick homes in hibernation mode. Life was here, but like the trees and so many things in Nature, it was dormant. Awaiting Spring.

Anxious to find a temporary home, perhaps a place to build a nest, mate, lay a clutch of eggs, and raise a feathered family, migrating waterfowl found this little lake. It seemed desirable, even with the ice still covering large portions of the water. Small, thin-billed Hooded Mergansers with fan-shaped, collapsible crests courted the few females with their elegant plumage and royal carriage.

A pair of Mallards, clumsy and large compared to the Mergansers, trooped across the ice and dipped into a frigid pool that opened like a dark streak in the white frozenness. Despite their clumsiness, there are so many things I appreciate about the Mallards—the male’s iridescent green head, the curled tail feathers, and the sturdy, orange legs and webbed feet.

I wonder what it was about this place that enticed these ducks and geese to stop, to rest, and to explore. It is a quiet place beside a dead-end road, surrounded by beautiful Birch and Oak trees. It has vines of Bittersweet and petite shrubs of Wild Roses.

All seemed content in the awakening homeplace except for one Canadian goose. He/she seemed to be the sentry, the one on guard, the eyes and ears of the group. The Sentry squawked in alarm and nervously swam towards the others as I walked closer. The others gave no cares at all as they swam through the reeds and dipped their heads under water to pull up a tasty green shoot.

The Sentry scrambled onto the ice, perhaps for a better vantage point. He paced back and forth, talking, scolding, watching, and worrying.

Is this the place to make a summer home? To raise a family? Are there hidden dangers?

It pays to be watchful, to know the signs of danger, particularly if one is susceptible, like to the potent berries of Poison Ivy that seem benign without the triad of shiny green leaves seen in summer.

Finally the Sentry slipped back into the water and was joined by the other geese, and calm returned to the swimmers. My presence no longer seemed like a threat. Maybe this is a good place. Perhaps Spring is leading us to where we need to go. There is hope in the Willows.

There are parts of most of us in the North that hibernate in the dark, cold, snowy months of Winter. Some whose internal lights shine strong with abundant energy and youthful vigor can move through Winter just as they do the rest of the year. They are beacons to the rest of us. Otherwise, the shift that occurs in Spring ignites a dormant flame, compelling us to move towards an awakening of sorts. Like the ducks and geese, the hibernating creatures under the mud, and the trees and plants all around, energy is quickened. Daylight and warmer temperatures turn on genetic programming and instincts. It’s time to find a summer home, to mate, to raise a family. We need the sentries of the world to be watchful, to keep the others safe, to protect those who do not know or see the dangers that may be lurking around us. And then we move in the living, reflecting, motioning water towards the soft willow flowers of a hopeful Spring.

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Filed Under: Spring Tagged With: Canada geese, ducks, ice, lakes, sentry

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A Little About Me

I love Nature! I love its beauty, its constancy, its adaptiveness, its intricacies, and its surprises. I think Nature can teach us about ourselves and make us better people. Read More…

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