“It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanates from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.” Robert Louis Stevenson
The sun hasn’t been up for long, and I’m walking in a frosty field punctuated with valley oaks (Quercus lobata). The trees’ silvery white-edged leaves lay scattered like coins below the trees. Oak’s leafless branch structures reveal mosses and lichens more readily now. As I write this, it’s the last of winter, and oaks’ verdant cloak looks to blanket the trees’ hard outer shell with tender loving care. Since there was no frost on the pumpkins in October, winter’s frost is a welcome sight, despite the bulky additions of my walking attire of hat, gloves, and scarf. It seems that we mere humans add layers, while many trees in the Northern Hemisphere, such as the deciduous oaks, disrobe down to their skeletons. The secrets of these winter trees are many, and include their shapes as they silhouette the sky.
A secret of their strength lies in their growth cycle as they power down for winter. Similar to our own output patterns when we scale back a bit and slow down to savor the winter season, these trees are waiting for spring’s energy to grow strong again. The tree’s dormancy is vital to its strength and vigor. When the shorter days beginning in fall provide a signal via photoreceptor proteins or light receivers, the hormone abscisic acid goes to work to persuade the leaves to drop and go into a dormant state. The trees’ metabolism slows to help them through the winter, and the water content in tree cells is reduced like an animal in hibernation.
Downed leaves allow moisture to remain in the soil and perform the duty of mulching the oaks. Leaves of the valley oak and nearby black oaks, along with other native trees, gradually release nutrients back into the soil to promote next season’s leaves, then acorns. Here in the leaf litter, innumerable life forms take hold, providing beneficial habitat for organisms and insects. Nutrient cycling and habitat biodiversity in action! Trees’ complexity and resilience truly are something to appreciate.
It’s surprising to see that tiny buds are forming on most oak branch tips. These are snug packages of next year’s flowers and leaves awaiting the signal to burst forth and perform their magic this spring season. The trees await the proper weather conditions and the corresponding length of day to begin budding out and unfolding their new leaves, becoming photosynthesis factories. They need the Goldilocks effect, that is, everything has to be timed ‘juuust right’ in order to safely open their buds as spring draws ever closer. Scientists say that the complexities of our changing climate can be quite taxing to flora and fauna, which is no big surprise to most of us. The delicate timing that nature has depended upon creates vulnerabilities across the landscape.
Now, when the trees are inert, and branches are bare, is the time to scout out bird or California gray squirrel nests that haven’t blown down. Obscured by leaves in the other seasons, the messy-looking splashes of twigs and leaves that make up these little homes are always a treat to find.
Sun’s light is pouring down like it means business now, pinking up Tom Dye Rock in the Mayacamas Mountains in response to the radiance. Trees, these sessile life forms that live around us, may serve to remind us that it is sometimes necessary to pause and rest, or ‘winter’. Perhaps we can become joyfully susceptible to the New Year’s tonic of tranquility that trees have cultivated to preserve and protect health and productivity.
