Latest column - Trees

Take my Trees…Please!
By Tim King

The headline came to me while writing this article and I had to do some research to make sure that I was using it in the correct context. Many of you may (and many more may not) remember the famous line from comedian and violinist Henny Youngman. “Take my wife…please.”

I was relieved to learn that Henny and his wife were actually very close and were married for more than sixty years…the origin of the joke was an honest misunderstanding by a theater usher. Mr. Youngman only wanted his wife to be escorted to her seat first, but the usher found the line tremendously funny, when taken literally.

You see, I have a love/hate relationship with the trees in my yard. Let’s just say, I know why our section of town is called Pine Point! Between the hazy clouds of dusty pollen that coats everything in sight and has us scrambling for Benadryl in the spring, the sap that stains our vehicles all summer and the needles and cones that ruin the PH balance of my lawn, it’s safe to say that pines are not one of my favorite arbores.

Then again, oaks are not much better.

The oak trees in my yard are constantly shedding their deadwood branches all over my yard. In the fall, my vehicles are bombarded with thousands of golf ball size acorns and the clean white winter landscape is muddied by their late falling leaves, later to be revealed as a clumpy, soggy mess come spring.

Don’t even get me started about the riotous band of squirrels that may come for the acorns, but clearly stay for the much tastier seeds found in my birdfeeder.

All summer long the voracious roots of these overbearing neighbors suck up all the water from my lawn and block the rain and sun from reaching the ground, leaving patches of grass stunted and brown. They are forever tossing their buds, leaves, bugs and branches into my pool and prematurely darkening my deck of the already much too short summer sunshine.

In a few more weeks the work will really begin. Day after day, leaves and needles, cones and acorns will tumble from the trees and need to mulched or hauled away. It will start as a dainty flutter as the nights turn cooler, but will undoubtedly end in a deluge of tree debris covering every inch of my property.

You may be asking why I simply don’t move, where is the love…or even why I would have chosen to live where I do in the first place? Clearly my life would be simpler, maybe even happier, without all of these troublesome trees cluttering my landscape. On the surface, this is true, but I recently came to realize something that has helped me gain a better perspective.

Simply, they were here first.

This past spring, I had an arborist give me an estimate for thinning out the deadwood in the oaks and remove a few of the scrub pines whose growth will always be stunted by the much larger oaks. While we were walking, he mentioned that the age of oaks was probably around 30-40 years old. “At least the second growth, the original trees probably started here more than 100 years ago.”

I was amazed to learn that these monsters were actually second-generation oak trees. I had no idea. What tipped off the arborist were the three main shoots that came out of the ground and stretched to the sky. Each one more than a foot in diameter. “The original tree was as wide as all three of these shoots combined,” he said as I imagined a single trunk, more than five feet across! There is one such stump in my neighborhood. Counting its rings, I found more than 80.

Since that day last spring, I have found myself being more respectful of these proud sentries of my yard. Year after year, they have protected the house against the heat of the sun, the cold wind of countless nor’easters and more sleet, rain and snow than I have seen in my entire life. Actually, more than anyone I know…except maybe my wife’s 102 year old grandfather.

What has impressed me most was the shear determination they have shown over the years. They’ve survived harsh storms, drought and disease… even been completely cut down, only to grow strong and true once again.

Somehow, this makes it a little easier to deal with the mess, hard work and aggravation that comes with sharing my small piece of the world with a few trees. It also reminds me of the importance and limitless potential that can be found by developing a strong set of roots.

Tim King is a freelance writer who sees the forest and the trees from his home in Scarborough. He can be reached at - sylvan.sauntering@gmail.com

Edie Clark - writer

"For the past 17 years, she has written a popular monthly essay for Yankee. Known as Mary’s Farm, the column is rooted in the place where she lives, an old farm in the Monadnock Region of New Hampshire. The farm, which once grew corn and flax, sheep and horses, once belonged to a woman named Mary. Edie bought the farm 10 years ago, and now grows only hay. And stories."

"Time wounds all heel's" ~John Lennon

this was the answer John Lennon gave to the question about whether or not he held any ill will towards Richard Nixon for trying to quiet his voice through threats of deportation. An interesting documentary because it shows a little from both sides. how about the brutally honest G. Gordon Liddy "if he had just sung his songs and kept his mouth shut, the FBI would have left him alone."

How true Lennon's quote soon became in regards to Nixon.

Triskele

Triskeles are one of the most common elements of Celtic art; they are found in a variety of styles in both ancient and modern Celtic art, especially in relation to depictions of the Mother Goddess. They also evoke the Celtic concept of the domains of material existence- earth, water, and sky, and their interrelations.

song lyrics

Twice as much
Ain't twice as good
And can't sustain
Like one half would.
It's wanting more
That's gonna bring me to
My knees.

John Mayer - Gravity

Into the Wild - Movie

great book...started me on the journey that landed us in Maine. I'll be very interested to see how they end it...since no one really knows.

latest column- thanks for the inspiration Maryellen

Learning to let it go - and grow

By Tim King

I got an interesting email from my aunt last week. It consisted of a conversation between God and St. Francis who were talking about a group called the “Suburbanites” and their odd landscaping habits. Here’s how it began:

GOD to St. Francis: “Frank, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honeybees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.”

To which St. Francis replies: “It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers "weeds" and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.”

God and St. Francis went on to talk about how boring green grass is, how we fertilize and water our lawns to make it grow, even when it is supposed to be resting, just so we can work harder (or pay money) to cut it down. God listened in further disbelief as St. Francis told him about the Suburbanites quest to scoop up every last leave in the fall, even through he intended them to be used as protection during the winter, and fertilizer come spring.

Imagine his shock to later find out that Suburbanites then cut down trees to grind into mulch to do the same job as the leaves!

While I will admit that I am guilty of many of these same tactics, the email did get me to try and imagine what a more natural landscape would look like in my yard. I began to look for examples to try and mimic.

I didn’t have to look very far.

The next time you are driving down main thoroughfare like Payne Road, the connector between Rte 1 and Rte 295 or Rand Road in Westbrook, take a look at the natural diversity of plants that thrive in the stretch of land between the road and the trees. I did, and was amazed at what I saw.

Where I had once seen only weeds and overgrowth (if I noticed anything at all in my rush to get to wherever I was going) I now became aware of a wonderfully wild strip of various colors, sizes and shapes that has grow and evolved entirely on its own. The view, when you take away the distractions of asphalt and road noise, would rival any other found in a more serene, hidden tract of land.

As I pass the wavering kaleidoscope of purple, blue, white and yellow flowers of all types, I wonder for a minute about a single stand of black-eyed Susan daisies that are set a few feet away from the others plants.

How, in the middle of the Maine Turnpike, high on a rocky cliff, with the noise and smoke from thousands of traveling vehicles, did this dainty blossom of sunshine come to be?

I imagine a lone flower flying out of a car, maybe a convertible, from a bouquet being brought to sick friend, like that floating feather in the movie Forrest Gump. Perhaps it lay along the roadside, withering in the hot sun, as countless cars speed by. Eventually, the petals dry and fall off and its seed pack lightens. One day, a huge 18-wheeler truck blasts down the breakdown lane and its tremendous backdraft launches the seeds up to more fertile ground.

All winter the seeds wait under a blanket of snow (hopefully) and are pulled into the soil by the warm rains of spring, and grow. With a firm foothold now in place and a bright future of life in the wild, Susan begins her new life overlooking the roadway where she was unknowingly abandoned just months before…and begins a family of her own.

One of my favorite quotes from Henry Thoreau is “there is only as much beauty visible to us in the landscape as we are prepared to appreciate—not a grain more.” I try to keep this thought with me as I walk, ride, hike or bike in order to better absorb what is in front of me. Like a Boy Scout, I want to be prepared, to see.

I realize that there is much more beauty already occurring around me than I will ever be able to replicate in my own private landscape. The challenge is knowing when to stop trying so hard and just let nature do what it does best – grow.


Tim King is a freelance writer who sees the forest and the trees from his home in Scarborough. He can be reached at - sylvan.sauntering@gmail.com

Big Car - Little Street - Happy Couple

Question from a recent trip down the condiment aisle

Why does Ernest Hemingway have/need to have his face and name on a line of cooking sauces ?

What's next....Henry Thoreau Concord Grape Jelly ???

My Column - Plant...Life

Looking Past the Bloom -
By Tim King

With summer now officially in full swing, the "Red Dot" clearance of perennials that have recently ‘lost their bloom’ is now on. Go to any garden center and you will likely find a sad shelf or rolling cart filled with browned, often drooping plants.

These containers, which were full of color and promise just a few weeks ago, are cast aside destined for immortality as part of a far away compost pile, or worse, simply forgotten. This is generally the time I like to add to my perennial gardens. Yes, maybe I’m cheap, but I also enjoy the feeling of rescuing these unwanted plants whose only fault was getting placed at the back of the line.

Their lives began just like the lucky ones who have already found homes earlier in the season. They are all born of solid ancestry, nurtured and raised into budding adolescents and then sent out into the world to do the best they can with what they have. Many arrive to nurseries and home centers still wet behind the ears, and again they are coddled and cared for with just enough food, water and sunlight to keep them green and alive.

And wait. Now, it’s a lottery. Who gets picked and who gets left behind?

When the warm spring sun calls forward the promise of summer blooms, many gardeners take stock of perennials peaking through the hard ground. What has survived the winter? What will need to be replaced? What do I want to move? How do they get those plants to look so BIG in the catalogs? These are just a few of the thoughts on my mind as well.

Inevitably, I’ll make a few trips to the local greenhouse - not to buy- more to breath in the warm air and kick start my senses from the deprivation of earthy smells and bright colors I have endured through the winter. (The annual Portland Flower Show having only whet my appetite while there was still snow on the ground!)

No, these early trips are primarily R&R (research and rejuvenation) journeys. I may buy a plant or two but my thoughts immediately flash forward to a summer day, much like today, when I’ll uncover a perfectly good day lily, daisy or geranium in need of rescue.

While many of their more fortunate cousins have already established their roots around the neighborhood, the ones I’ll pick have sat patiently waiting. As the days turn into weeks and they begin to strain against the confines of their now to small pots, many must wonder what they did wrong. Did I bloom to early? Too late? Was I not green enough? How did I end up next to the cinder blocks and why didn’t anyone put me back before now?

So the next time you visit a garden center, look past the evergreens shrubs, trees and groundcovers that are now in season and search out the table of shabby looking plants pushed into a back corner. Often, given a chance (and a little sunshine, water and good soil of course) these survivors often respond by performing well for many years to come. Not every plant you rescue will come back, but many do...you just have to wait a little longer to see whether your compassion has paid off. And, what’s so bad about that?

I'm going to write a newspaper column

We'll see what it gets me, but i thought it was about time that i did some writing for me for a change. Even be able to put my name on it. First one has been well received (by the editor, my neighbors and random people around town) and i'm working on the next one now.

Cross this one off the New Year's Resolution list....19 months later.

For now, you have to download the whole PDF, but maybe someday it will be online to view. (I'm on page 9-10)

TK

What I'm Reading - The Archer's Tale

i'm going to try something new and see what this story/series has to offer. so far, its pretty good stuff. maybe i might even learn something too.