My, What A Big Leaf You Have!
Would you rather hear this article? Click on the above audio to take a short “Walk In the Woods” at Harmony Hill!
Some of the finest moments we’ve had in nature have been when we’ve forgotten our age and simply walked in the woods just like we did as a child.; eyes wide open, ears perked for every sound, taking in the scents around us with each breath, a smile plastered across our face, and a skip in our step. It was our fascination as a child that firmly planted our feet in the outdoors as an adult naturalist, and it was our wondering and wandering then that still puts us face-to-face with the magic of Mother Nature now. George Bernard Shaw famously said, “We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.” And we think that same sentiment extends to the mysteries found in our own backyards. We’ve explored some pretty amazing species and relationships in the natural world; but today we want to tell you the story of a species that grabbed our attention for one of the simplest reasons.
In the autumn, we see them change from green to brilliant shades of red, yellow, purple, orange, and brown. Later in the season, they rustle and shake in the wind, eventually floating down to the ground. In the winter, they crunch and shuffle beneath our every step in the woods. In the spring, we rejoice as they begin to grow anew and paint the forest in the newness of life. All summer long, we seek refuge from the brutal heat of the sun in the softness of their shade. Some are long and slender, as on the many pines on the hilltops at Harmony Hill. Some are small and heart-shaped, as on the Redbud trees. Some are simple and look exactly like they were drawn and colored by a child, as on the spindly dogwood tree. Then, there are those like the ones that caught our eye and had us giggling as we marveled at the way Mother Nature is effortlessly able to tie complexity and beauty together.
We are, of course, talking about leaves. Is there a more basic thing to consider when walking through the forest? This time of year, they’re nearly as ubiquitous as grains of sand along the creekbank; filling the forest and flowing in the late spring breeze. Like so many common things, it is easy to take them for granted because of their sheer numbers. But going back to that childlike amazement in nature, it is healthy and wonderful to sluff the jaded grownup and return to what made us become naturalists to begin with. A leaf can be unbelievably uncanny! Don’t agree? Come for a walk in the woods with us to visit a tree and a leaf so extraordinary, it deserves its very own spotlight!
Just up a short hill, mixed into Loblolly Pines and a few, scattered hardwood saplings, we saw a tree swaying gently in the breeze. Seeing the small trunk and the conspicuous leaves lit up by the glow of the rising sun, we stopped in our tracks and made a beeline up the hill. There before us was a small tree that we’ve seen growing in all sorts of habitats across the state.
Devil’s Walkingstick (Aralia spinosa) is a tree primarily found in the southeastern United States, though its range goes well into the mid-Atlantic states and can be readily found in east Texas. A look at that range shows it covering the area most would recognize as the “deep south”, Kentucky down to Mississippi and across to the Carolinas, reaching up to Virginia and down to Florida.
But what sort of common name is Devil’s Walkingstick? Even a quick glance at the stem of this tree will let you know where that name, as well as the species name of spinosa, comes from! The spines irregularly lining the trunk outline the places where leaves were, or the leaf scars, in previous years. Colloquially, we heard that only the devil could use that tree as a walking stick. In some parts of its range, it’s called “Prickly Ash” or “Hercules Club”, though it isn’t an ash at all. It’s actually in the Ginseng, or Araliaceae, Family! And there is another tree that has larger, thicker spines dotting its trunk that is also called “Hercules Club”.
The spines of Aralia spinosa extend onto the stems of the remarkable leaves growing this spring. Remember, it is the topic of leaves that got us here!
A quick recap of our dendrology class will help a great deal right now. You see, leaves can be simple or compound. Simple leaves are just that, one leaf growing from a leaf bud, making a single, simple leaf structure. Compound leaves are a cluster or structure of leaflets attached to a stem growing from a leaf bud on a tree.
Simple leaves are found on trees as common as magnolias, sycamores, cherries, dogwoods, and oaks. Compound leaves can be easily seen on hickories, ashes, pecans, and even the introduced mimosa tree. The concept of what a leaf is on a tree can be stated as straightforward as the structure that grows from the leaf bud.
Want to know if you’re dealing with a single, simple leaf or a compound leaf made up of multiple leaflets? Just trace your way back to where it connects to where the leaf sprouted from the tree! It is just that easy!
Now, let’s take it one more step with Devil’s Walkingstick. The leaf found on this tree is a bipinnately compound, meaning it is made up of multiple branchings of leaflets. These leaves can grow to be an enormous size! We have routinely seen them measuring 3’-4’ in length and 2’-3’ wide. Lengths of 5’ and widths of 4’ are not at all uncommon! And as for trying to count the leaflets, we have found leaves made up of 50-70 leaflets! For comparison, pecan trees have leaves usually made up of 11-13 leaflets.
We know we often ask you to take a moment to think about what we’ve just said, but indulge us as we ask you to do it again. These leaves can be made up of over 70 leaflets and be 5’ long and 4’ wide! Now tell us the child in you isn’t amazed by that and that seeing this species doesn’t get you excited about walking in the woods!
Most of the time, Devil’s Walkingstick grows to about 20’-25’ tall, but can exceed 35’ in height in good conditions. And because of those incredible leaves, it can attain a shrubby shade area of 10’-15’ when growing in a good spot. As for soil types that are good for this tree, we have found it growing in some pretty dry, sandy areas in the sandhills and coastal plain areas, as well as moist soils with some clay content in the piedmont and mountain areas. As long as there is at least some partial shade and soils that dry out, we expect to find Devil’s Walkingstick in a variety of places.
Later in the summer, a large cluster of small white flowers will bloom atop this tree. Attracting native bees, Devil’s Walkingstick can be an important source of pollen and nectar for a number of pollinator species in decline. Once pollinated, those flowers will develop into dark berries that are devoured by birds like thrushes and mimics, as well as mammals such as raccoons and opossums.
As autumn moves in, the massive leaves turn red, purple, and gold before dropping to the ground and leaving the trunk a naked spine-covered stem.
But for the spring and summer months, we have the good fortune to see the enormous leaves of this shrubby tree. And we have an immediate reminder that something as everyday as a leaf can be anything but normal; that something often overlooked can be the entire reason you should stare in wonder. And we have an instant connection to the child who ran through the woods, investigating everything they came upon. The early naturalist in us who found magic in everything we saw, heard, touched, and smelled is still there and, even though we have many more years behind us now, we remain enraptured by what others may walk past.
It isn’t just a leaf! It is a bipinnately compound, and occasionally, a tripinnately compound structure that demonstrates Mother Nature can take the normal and make it exquisitely complex. And it is Mother Nature tapping us on the shoulder, telling us to take nothing for granted and to always maintain that curiosity and astonishment which keeps us her eternal students. With that in mind, when was the last time you walked in nature and sought joy in the familiar? When was the last time you were enchanted by a leaf? You’re never too old to rekindle the magic.
Nurse Logs: Renewal and Regrowth
Nature is an eternal teacher. Lessons in biology, psychology, mathematics, geology and even art can be found during each walk in the woods. When you look and listen, nature has much to teach. During one of our last walks along the trails of Harmony Hill, we got a lesson in the healthy renewal, regrowth and regeneration of the forest.
One of the main goals in how we approach the land is to find a balance in the habitats and ecosystems at Harmony Hill, in which the land can maintain a healthy state that allows the native flora and fauna to flourish with minimal management from human hands. There are spaces on the land that require a little more thought and effort to reach that level, but there are spaces that will be there earlier. We are always looking for places that can show us what Harmony Hill will be without the heavy hand of man on the landscape. We found that in something many people would walk right by, paying little attention.
We have often spoken about the sights and sounds of the forest, bringing life and energy to spring and summer days. However, death is as much a part of the forest as that liveliness. This is not a morbid fascination, but a fact of life. For every plant and animal that lives on the landscape, there will come a time when it ceases to live. The tall and stately trees that fill the forest grow to reach the sunlight and provide shelter, food and structure for myriad species. Throughout their lives, the large trees we love to see as we walk the trails will be nesting sites for birds and squirrels, give vines natural ladders to climb, grant shade tolerant wildflowers a much-needed respite from the hot summer sun, as well as become part of a larger subterranean community through their extensive root systems.
An unclose look at a hole previously drilled by a Northern Flicker that is now a planter for a Loblolly Pine sapling. Photo courtesy Lisa Riente
When these same trees die, they don’t stop giving to the land. Quite the opposite, in fact. They continue to nourish and provide for fungi, insects, birds, reptiles, mammals and, most importantly, their fellow plant life at Harmony Hill. Rounding the corner of on one of our walks, we witnessed exactly that and it allows us to share the story of nurse logs, their importance to forests and how they fit into the well-oiled machine that is Mother Nature.
When a tree dies, whether it still stands in the woodland or if it dies from being uprooted by the wind, it begins to decay. As the wood fibers break down, fungi and bacteria start the work of returning the tree to the forest. Insects quickly move in to help consume and recycle the rotting tree and the fungi. As those insects arrive and increase in numbers, birds, reptiles and mammals come on the scene to take advantage of the bountiful prey items. The tree, once alive and growing, comes to life in an entirely different way. This time, the tree serves as a condominium and buffet for everything from microscopic bacteria to large Pileated Woodpeckers in search of beetle larvae. For many reasons, most woodpecker species thrive on dead wood. At Harmony Hill, we host Downy Woodpeckers, Hairy Woodpeckers, Red-headed Woodpeckers, Red-bellied Woodpeckers, Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers, Northern Flickers and Pileated Woodpeckers all, or at least a portion, of the year. Just as important as the decaying wood, these woodpeckers are an integral part of this story. Their engineering and excavating are clear in the photos, and the impact they have on the creation of new forests is obvious.
One of the insects that will utilize moist, decaying wood Is the Carpenter Ant (Camponotus pennsylvanicus). Both standing snags, also referred to as standing course woody debris, and fallen logs, referred to as downed course woody debris, see Carpenter Ants move in. One of our year-round woodpecker species, the Northern Flicker (Colaptes auratus) is a wonderful consumer of ants. They even actively forage for and eat the red imported Fire Ant (Solenopsis invicta). When Carpenter Ants move into snags at Harmony Hill, we often see Northern Flickers pecking and chiseling away wood to get to ants and their larvae. Even as a snag stands rotting above the forest floor at Harmony Hill, the makings of the next forest are taking shape. And the Northern Flicker is part of building what is to come for generations in the woods of Harmony Hill.
If a dead tree isn’t felled immediately by the wind, when it does eventually fall, it takes the final steps in returning to the forest and feeding the future. The journey from living giant to nurse log closes and each bacteria, fungi, insect, bird, reptile and mammal interaction shows purpose towards the balance we seek. The presence of the Carpenter Ants, initially seen as just an insect feeding on rotting wood, and a Northern Flicker making holes in the tree to find those ants, becomes critical to a new Loblolly Pine (Pinus taeda) sprouting to fill an empty place. The nurse log, now lying on the ground, begins to host other species, such as a perched Gray Squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis) working a pinecone like corn on the cob, searching for pine seeds to feed on. Rainfall now fills the holes drilled by the woodpeckers, as do leaves and dust, causing the wood to further decay. Those holes, as is plainly seen in the photos, become their own micro ecosystems, allowing seeds that have been dropped by squirrels and even other trees to arise from the tiny places hosting soil creation.
Nurse logs are natural mulch sites, holding water and delivering nutrients as they decompose. As animal traffic increases and more fungi, mycorrhizae and roots systems interlace throughout the carcass of the tree, more of the wood is broken down and more places become active hosts for more plants and trees to sprout. Even with many years of decomposition, the nurse logs are giving themselves back to the ground from which they grew. And with each stage of decay, the nurse log falls flatter to the forest floor and the cells of the tree slowly but surely become organic material for the soil below. Roots of Red Maple (Acer rubrum), Loblolly Pine and other trees stretch down into the earth and are fed by their rotting relative.
Death is not the end. It is merely a transition from one form to another. These nurse logs show us there is energy left to return to the earth and that there is still much left to give back to the environment that fed you. Life doesn’t truly end when cells cease splitting. And each inhabitant of the forests of Harmony Hill are a crucial part of the wooded areas of many years from now. There is no coincidence in the decomposition process of creating a nurse log. We see the value of each mushroom and critter that builds rich soil by simply living out their life cycle in and around a tree which dies on the landscape.
Just as “the butterfly effect” illustrates the potential for the flapping of a butterfly’s wings could impact the formation of weather patterns, we see the drumming of a woodpecker’s beak impacting the formation of tomorrow’s forests. Nature is an eternal teacher. When you look and listen, nature has much to teach. May we always be open to learn her lessons.
Soapy, Sappy Pine Tree
On Valentine’s Day, Sunshine sent a photo of foam at the base of a pine tree. Along with the photo, she asked a very logical question… “What is this and what caused it?” (See photo accompanying today’s post to see the bubbles in question)
It is a conundrum. A foamy, sudsy froth coming from a pine tree is an odd thing to find while out on a walk in the forest. In fact, it isn’t something many people I know have seen; even those who have spent a lot of time working, playing or walking in the piney woods. As has become the case with our discussions here, we’re going to look deeper into the science behind the mystery. What would cause this to occur at the base of a pine tree?
When I saw the photo, one of the first things I knew immediately was that there had been a great deal of rain there for an extended period of time. The reaction that occurs to make the observed foam is an extremely simple type of weak saponification, or soap-making. And this reaction only occurs during times of abundant rain.
What does rain have to do with it? The extra moisture reacts with chemicals in the pine resin, as well as chemicals in the air, to create soap-like suds. Some of the same chemicals in pine resin that contribute to the old recipes for pine tar soap are at play here. Along with phosphates and other chemicals in the air that find themselves trapped in the layers of bark on the tree, the rain (in both the form that falls on the tree and the water that has been taken up by the tree) reacts to make the bubbles.
Why does this almost always occur at (or near) the base of pine trees? That’s an easy one… Gravity! As the rain on the outside of the tree trickles and runs down the trunk of the tree, weaving its way through the bark and along the crevices of the tree, it helps froth the simple soapy substance. And, as you’d expect, this occurs more prominently as it picks up momentum and nears the base of the tree.
The joys of a rainy day walk in the woods bring far more than just tranquility on a quiet day in nature. Those walks also bring observations that pique our curiosity and opportunities to learn what causes things rarely seen in the forest. Like, the mystery of the bubbly bark! (or, the percolating pine… or, the sudsy sap… I’ll see myself out, now!) 😂