Posts Tagged ‘woodland’
words from the woodland – where branches touch
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fear of heights
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as dizzying to look up
in the forest
as down
into the abyss
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the trees taper so
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they lean
water birch
against fir
rubbed raw
where branches touch
or reach for one another
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and sudden, wrenching sounds
a branch swings back or breaks
loosed by a squirrel
burdened where crows complain
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or where a warbler scolds
teacher teacher teacher
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Copyright 2015 Jane Tims
Arthur – caution: men working in trees
A milestone of our 2014 summer was certainly Hurricane Arthur (July 5). For an account of our encounter with Hurricane Arthur, see: https://nichepoetryandprose.wordpress.com/2014/07/14/arthur-during-the-storm/ and https://nichepoetryandprose.wordpress.com/2014/07/16/arthur-after-the-storm/ .
For six days after the storm we were without electricity and learned to live a different life, deciding how to allocate the power from our small generator and bringing water in from diverse places. The biggest long-term result of the storm, however, was the damage done to our big red maple.
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The maple is at our front entry way. It has grown from a small sapling – my husband could circle it with thumb and forefinger when we built the house 35 years ago – to a huge tree. It is our best producer at maple syrup time and spreads a carpet of red leaves in a perfect circle in our driveway. Best of all, it has a ‘voice’. When I arrive home or leave, it ‘squeaks’ to me, the result of two branches rubbing together in the slightest breeze.
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After the storm, we congratulated ourselves on how few of our trees were damaged. Then I looked out of the den window and saw – the winds had not spared the red maple – one of the big branches had a wide split in the wood.
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At first, my husband thought he could take the big limb down himself. But after removing some of the smaller branches, it was obvious that trying to cut the branch ourselves would be dangerous. The tree is close to the house and power lines and there was no easy way to safely control the fall of the branch.
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We decided to turn to the experts and called Treecologic, since they are fully insured. They also have a trained arborist and an excellent reputation. Their Vision statement is ‘promoting a safe & healthy urban forest’, so they were the tree removal company for me! For more information on the company, see http://www.treecologic.ca/.
Since there have been so many people in the Fredericton area with downed trees because of Arthur, we knew it might be some time before Treecologic could help us. We spent August through October keeping vehicles away from the risk zone under the tree. On Halloween night, we put up ‘Caution’ tape to keep the spooks from danger. And every day I tiptoed to our front door, convinced I would hear a crack as the branch came down on my head!
Then, as promised, Treecologic arrived, ladder, chain saws, climbing ropes and all. They worked for almost three hours, taking down a big white pine tree planted too close to the house and trimming branches from some of our other maples.
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Then the arborist fixed a line in the highest branches of the red maple, put on his climbing belt and hoisted himself into the tree.
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Every move he made was calculated for safety and for the health of the maple. Working his way through the tree, using a very sharp pruning saw, he gradually removed the smallest branches, including some which were scraping against our roof.
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At first I felt alarmed to see a man in our very tall tree, but after realising how carefully he worked, I began to enjoy watching the process. To be an arborist, I now know, requires an understanding of the tree’s biology and health, but also dexterity, strength, flexibility and fearlessness.
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At the last, he tackled the split branch, first removing remote branches, then finishing with the chainsaw from a ladder. Great work, Treecologic !
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Our tree will take a while to recover from it’s adventure with the hurricane. Losing almost a third of its canopy will mean a couple of years of rest before another pruning. No tapping for maple sap for the next few springs! Meanwhile, the pruning has given us lots of hard wood for next year’s wood stove and, once they dry out, lots of kindling and twigs for my campfires! Some will go into our wood chipper to add to the soft surface for our trails.
And, in case you were wondering, the tree still has its ‘voice’ since the branches that rub together remain!
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
Arthur – during the storm
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Arthur
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woods are a green ocean
swell, each oak a breaker, and pines
crash on the shore, withdraw, branches
lift and fall, lift and settle
maples gyrate, invert their leaves, backlit
waves, spray from every
blade, winds tug at petiole, green
debris on the deck, fallen stars
on the lawn, the wind a rumble, every
branch a knife, each trunk a bow, bent
beyond the stretch of fibre, trees heave
branches lash, in the woods a crack
pummels the growl of a chainsaw in
the neighbor’s yard
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
harvesting colour … colour of the harvest
On our weekend drive from Canterbury to McAdam, I saw another aspect of the ‘harvesting colour’ theme. Anywhere you travel in New Brunswick, you usually come across wood harvesting activity and Highway 630 was no exception. About half way along, a turn in the road brought us to a large forest harvest.
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The wood from the cut was stacked into gigantic walls.
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The clearcut laid the land quite bare. It will be many years before this area returns to the hardwood habitat typical of the area, if at all.
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The wood from the cutting had been piled according to species. The colours of the cut wood were quite distinctive. The largest colour contrast was between the pale almost white, ash …
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and the very orange wood of the spruce and fir …
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I have no particular point to make, except to honour the very individual characteristics of these trees.
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
a moment of beautiful – ice windows on woodland pools
the space: pools of water in the Grey Woods
the beautiful: patterns in the thin ice
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While we wait for a lasting snow in New Brunswick, ice defines the season. On every pool of standing water, ice-windows have formed. I love the patterns these make against the amber-colored water! These are photos of ice windows taken last spring, after the snow had gone.
Copyright 2013 Jane Tims
Paper Birch
In the last five months, I have been learning how to paint with watercolors. I’ve painted with acrylics for some time, and I love to draw with pencil, but watercolors always seemed daunting to me.
If you are a follower of my Blog, you will know my early attempts at watercolor have been of views from my virtual cycling trip in central France and on the Ile de Ré. I have also done some studies of New Brunswick wildflowers.
Among the subjects I found fun to paint on Ile de Ré were the vine-covered trees that grow along the road.
This week, on a trip to see our camp, I studied some of the characteristics of Paper Birch (Betula papyrifera Marsh.), a tree growing everywhere on our property by the lake …
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Some of these trees are actually Mountain Birch (Betula papyrifera Marsh. var. cordifolia (Reg.) Reg.), a variety of the Paper Birch. This variety is quite common in eastern Canada. Its distinguishing characteristic is the heart-shape of its leaves, especially at the base of the leaf.
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The bark of the Paper Birch and Mountain Birch is predominantly white, although parts of the tree can be yellowish or quite black. Its bark strips readily from the tree, in sheets, leaving a reddish-orange inner bark which turns black with age …
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To paint the birch, I used Painter’s Tape to mask the trunks of the trees. Then I painted the background. Once the background was dry, I stripped the Painter’s Tape away and added the bark details in the white space left behind. Here are three paintings of Mountain Birch …
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Copyright Jane Tims 2013
a moment of beautiful – through a stained glass window
the space: the big maple outside our front door
the beautiful: seeing a squirrel in the tree through the stained glass window in our stairwell
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As I was working at my desk, my husband called to me. Through our stained glass window, he could see a silhouette of our grey squirrel. I’m glad the squirrel waited long enough for me to snap his picture!
© Jane Tims 2013
in the circle of the evergreen wreath
Every year, during Advent, I either purchase or make a wreath of evergreens to celebrate the coming of Christmas. Last year, making the wreath, I had a little help. Zoë decided the perfect place to perch herself was within the circle of the wreath.
Our wreath materials were all obtained on our lake property. The species we used for our wreath were:
- White Pine (Pinus Strobus L.)
- White Cedar (Thuja occidentalis L.) also known as Arbor Vitae
- Balsam Fir (Abies balsamea (L.) Mill.)
- Common Juniper (Juniperus communis L.) -the variety we used was too prickly and I won’t use it again.
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At this time of Advent, we wait in the darkest days of the year for Christmas. The wreath is one of the most endearing symbols of this wait. Made of evergreens, it speaks to the concept of everlasting love. To count down the Sundays before Christmas, we light purple and pink candles to symbolize ideas of Hope, Peace, Joy and Love. The lighted candles also represent bringing light into the world.
The wreath is another of those symbols borrowed from pagan times, when the circle represented the ever-changing seasons and the circle of life. The evergreen stood for the part of life that survives the winter season and candles symbolized light shining through darkness.
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gathering green
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in the space between solstice
and the whisper of stars
in a herded sky
daylight shrinks, always one hour
short of rested
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in the thicket we gather
armloads, garlands of green
fragrances of cedar and pine
red dogwood twigs
stems of red berry, alder cones
curved boughs of fir
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flexible as mattress coils, piled on ground
to rest, await brief
overlap, longest night
and feathering of angel down
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watch, through the trees
the struggle
planet light
and pagan fire
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© Jane Tims 2012
eerie evening
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Fears
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I saw a light in the woods tonight
low, through the tangled branches of spruce
and the crowded stems of fir
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white in the dark –
a gleam where only night should stir
like the lamp of a stranger, lost
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but the glow was steady and still
and in less than the catch of a breath I knew
all I saw was the rising moon
beyond the hill
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I heard a cry in the woods tonight
soft and low through the tangle of spruce
and the thicket of fir
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a moan in the dark
a sob where only the wind should stir
like the frightened tears of a child
alone
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but the cries held no human word
and in less than the catch of a breath I knew
the wail of a wildcat on the prowl
was all I heard
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Copyright Jane Tims 1990
























































