Listening to Nature
After a heavy, wet February snow, I went out in our yard. I was sad to see our little Plum tree knocked down, it’s trunk deeply cracked. The Plum had never thrived, somehow it was the tree that always got more bugs, and it grew in an endearingly crooked shape. We knew it’s days were numbered.
We had planted the Plum near a large Hackberry tree years ago, when the kids were young. I remember the time with hope and innocence, it was before polarizing politics dominated our minds. And long before that, probably around 1950 someone planted the Hackberry, with the vision that the tree might flourish and become a magnificent 60 foot tall tree today. It has. It’s a spectacular tree.
The Hackberry tree provides abundant, welcome shade in the summer. We have hung swings from its branches and picnicked under its canopy. But others interact with the Hackberry as well, squirrels scamper through its branches, and flocks of birds hold parties there. There are small black flies that arrive in the summer, burrow into the leaves creating little bumpy “galls” on the leaves, but evidently not seriously affecting the health of the tree. Many of these galls hatch into flies, but many other fall prey to birds and other animals that find these crispy galls delicious. The Hackberry also produces small dark berries, that also are harvested by birds, who generously thank the tree by fertilizing the ground below. The north side of the tree supports mossy growths, and the occasional mistletoe.
The tree is alive, and supports a world of life in its branches, a hive of busy bugs and activity obvious to the most casual observer. Deeper listening reveals the trees respiration, the absorption of sunlight through its leaves, being converted into chemical energy stored as sugars to support its growth. Through this process carbon is sequestered in its wood. During a season of growth, its leaves do the same, unfurling and flourishing in the sunshine, in the autumn returning to the ground, where the stored carbon, aided by the decomposers and detritivores of the world, is largely set into the soil with the roots of additional green plants. This additional organic matter stores atmospheric carbon, but also increases the fertility of the soil, promoting more plant growth increases retention of water and nutrients, improves plant growth, reduces erosion, leading to improved water quality in groundwater and surface waters.
These cycles are diurnal, and affected by the weather. On sunny summer days green plants speed up their absorption of sunlight, of CO2, the production and storage of sugars. The movement of liquids throughout a tree increases, moving minerals from roots to shoots, transpiration cools the sun heated plants. With the decreased solar energy flows of winter, the metabolism slows down. Plants increase the humidity of the surrounding air, densities of plants can change the microclimate, increasing the cloud cover. The moderation of the climate can encourage other species to flourish as well, generating an increasingly complex ecosystem with many mutually beneficial components and activities. Each of these players adds to the exchange of energy and materials, creating a symphony with sub themes, obscure references and grace notes that are slowly revealed through repeated listening.
As we move through a city, the analogues are everywhere. We have systems for moving material and energy around to where it is needed and moving things out when needed. We build structures that moderate and filter the climate, creating comfortable places to support our growth. The city has a metabolism, often dictated by the working days, but also affected by the seasons and weather. And diversity. People appreciate the variety of economic and cultural activities in a city, we are often less attracted to places of anonymous ubiquity.
Yet our cities are built disconnected from the ecology that supports our lives. Rather than hurtling towards extinction, our human activities can support our ecological systems through interactive communication, evolving from impacts into biological adaptations for survival. We are missing nouns and verbs in the language of ecology, our literacy is nascent. Can we understand enough from nature to make good decisions for the environment that we depend on for our survival? Will we listen to our changing planet and adapt our activities?
I am a stakeholder in the wellbeing of this big old Hackberry tree in our yard. It is older than me, it is my elder. We take care of each other. I’m not sure how to put a dollar value on that, but the value is clearly there.
The roots of this Hackberry reach far, and communicate through fungal and hydrochemical connections. I’m pretty sure the Hackberry and the Plum tree communicated through their root and fungal systems, and perhaps they still do. As I took down the trunk of the broken little Plum tree on that winter day, I could see three new plum shoots, emerging from living roots, reaching for the sunlight.
