The Old Crabapple Tree
March is that fickle month in the north where everything from a blizzard to a blooming cherry tree is possible. This year I find myself focusing on one tree for springtime lessons in change, connection and inspiration.
Our old crabapple tree in early March, a treasure for tiny birds and us all winter long
The ornamental crab tree in front of our house was already well-established when we moved here 32 years ago. It still stands, aging in place like the women who admire it from the patio edge and the kitchen windows. Tiny leaves are now beginning to emerge on its weathered branches. The trunk is split in several places. Thick moss covers much of it and the branches themselves are adorned with a clusters of blue-green lichen (Usnea spp.). The usual lifespan of an ornamental crabapple is 30-70 years. It wasn’t young when we moved in, and it is genuinely old now.
Showing signs of age, the trunk is covered with moss and the bark is split where the tree forks
The first red leaves of spring emerging on the lichen-covered branches
Our tree is a study in tenacity. Over the years it has become completely surrounded and crowded by juniper bushes. It must compete for water and space for its roots. A Mugo pine pushes it from the west. Yet again, last spring it displayed a gorgeous array of pink blossoms. I am seeing signs that in the coming months of lengthening light and warmth, it is again offering out its leaves. I want the tree to serve as a metaphor for beauty and survival in these tough planetary times, but I must watch and wait.
Newly emerging leaves on a lichen covered branch show the variety and diversity of lichens on our tree. The gray green “spidery” lichen is a member of the large Usnea lichen genus. These are sought out by hummingbirds for nest making.
This little female Anna’s hummingbird was found frozen at the base of our feeder last year. This nest we found shows the use of Usnea lichens.
Our tree and all trees embody groundedness. They stand still because they must. They weather storms. They provide shelter for other life forms. They are connected below ground to nearly everything around them. They seem so different than us, but what if we chose to focus on our commonalities? One college professor has invited his students to do just that.
College freshmen assigned to spend a semester with one chosen tree
Harvard’s evolutionary biologist William Friedman offers a freshman seminar called simply “Tree”. He uses trees themselves to do a lot of his teaching. As director of the university’s Arnold Arboretum, he invites his students to choose a single tree in the 281-acre arboretum and spend time with it during the semester. The assignment is to observe the tree/to connect in whatever way the student can.
As an experiment this spring, I have marked a branch and am measuring leaf growth every day.
Reading about this inspired me to introduce an “assignment” into my usual observation of spring in our yard. Focusing on the old crabapple, I am making daily measurements of leaf growth: my chosen leaf has grown one half inch in three days. An increasing number of little red leaves are appearing on the tree. Overnight temperatures are supposed to drop to near freezing again later this week. The tree will adjust the energy that goes into new growth and refocus it on core strength. I won’t be able to observe or measure this, but I know this will happen because it must and because the tree knows how.
How are you similar to a tree? Are you persisting despite the external conditions of your life? Are you making sure you are connected to the things around you that sustain your life and health? Do you know how to protect yourself in times of external onslaught?
All of us are living in demanding times—bombing in the Middle East, ongoing immigration arrests, rising fuel and grocery costs. But we are not alone. Other creatures on the planet also suffer external challenges. They find ways to adjust. We can do the same. What inspiration waits for you in the natural world around you? It’s almost Equinox, let’s walk outside the comfort of our four walls and notice that even one tree can provide a remarkable source of joy and genuine amazement.
Mid-April photo taken last spring of a blooming branch.
Lovely story and thought, Ann. We’ve just had two 60-degree days that have taken down much of our high snow accumulation, but still some to navigate and more on the way, possibly by the weekend. I know just the tree and I’ll make an effort to get to know her before more snow arrives.
Love to you both!
Meredith
Thank you, Meredith! Be sure to watch her after the snow leaves, too! Ann
Thank you for this gentle contemplation on how we might be sourced right within our own yards. I never knew crab apple blossoms were so vividly pink!
In QiGong class we have a pose called Hugging the Tree. I imagine I am hugging the big chestnut oak in my backyard. We exchange breaths, send love into both our “roots,” spreading the energy around the planet, and out through our respective crowns into the cosmos. I feel renewed. Hope the tree does, too.
Hello Jana! Thank you for the reminder of what yoga can do to tune us into the presence and strength of trees. Ann
I find it amazing in Minneapolis, during our occupation, when folks, regardless of age, chose to help the less fortunate with little things such grocery delivery and issues such medical appointments. That’s all I have today.
Yes, Larry, Minneapolis folks were absolutely astounding during the occupation. The word “Minnesota” now stands for strength in resilience. Appreciate bringing them front and center. Ann
Lovely echoes to “Where a Poem Resides”…thank you for this, Ann.
You are welcome, Katharine. Yes, a reach back to my previous blog and always holding up trees for their strength and resilience. Ann
Ann,
I love this and am now focusing on the tiny blossoms of our Asian pear tree. It is used by many birds and an occasional raccoon and provides us with delicious fruit.
Thank you❤️
Thank you, Bonnie. I think this would be an entirely different world if many of us remembered to admire and draw strength and inspiration from trees. Appreciation is a powerful force in weaving the world together. Ann
This is so soul longing for me… here in the desert,
My love of trees life long at 83 year old, I So long for all the trees I grew up with, I have a theory… it’s that we all come back as trees…. I can hardly wait…..🥰
Hello Dear Casey! I love your theory! Not sure which desert you live in, but wondering if you have mesquite trees. Some consider them weeds, but I consider them survivors and they, too, change some leaves with the seasons. Ann
How inspiring Ann. And yes to contemplate how our relationships with the natural world guides and sustains us. I am taking this reflection out on the earth with me during these strangely warm days, to listen, look, feel, kneel down…… Gratitude as always. You are always a teacher to so many, including me. love Anne
Thank you, Anne. I know you have spent many an hour sitting intentionally beneath trees. We teach each other. love, Ann
Such sweetness and power in the beautiful, aged crabapple tree! Love it–and YOU, Thanks!
Thank you, Judy! Love right back to you. Ann
Thank you for this helpful post.
You are most welcome. Ann
Thank you Ann. I remember your tree out in front, so beautiful. I have a rhododendron “bush” on the east side of my house that has become a tree. Its branches tower over the house and its 3-part trunk segments are each as big around as a basketball. I watch that tree through my living room window and when I’m outdoors, I often speak to her affectionately. The birds and squirrels love her too!
xoxo
Hello GlendaSo glad we “know” each other’s trees. The more we all tend to our standing tall friends, the better this world will be. Sincerely, Ann
Such a sweet and grounding invitation. Thank you.
PS … and all the birds we now hear (and wake up to) — a truly precious time. Thank you for connecting us all around what’s precious.
Yes, Marjeta, the early morning chorus of bird song this time of the year is truly wonderful. It is a daily job to keep the feeders filled on these frigid mornings. And, the trees provide such important shelter for them from frost, rain, and wind. Ann
Oh, I love this idea! I will watch my river birch with your post in mind. I never thought to watch the same tree for its subtle changes but I can see already how it can help me create still another attentiveness practice. I heard my first rufous yesterday and saw my first meadowlark in the field. Sure signs of spring. May our curiosity be what sustains us in these times.
Thank you for these lovely observations, Bonnie Rae! Yup, saw my first rufous hummingbird at our feeder Sunday morning. Aren’t they just totally remarkable little birds?!? Seeing how cold and dicey our weather is this week, I have put my heater back up under the feeder! And yet, this is what spring does and may our curiosity and observations indeed support us in these times. Ann
I love this idea of spending time with a chosen tree. It reminds me of an idea someone had when we were discussing ways to deal with stress. She said “name your trees.” Ever since, I’ve wanted to name trees in my yard, and haven’t taken the time. I am now inspired to spend time with all my trees. I have maple, Aspen, blue spruce, and ash trees in my yard.
Thank you for this, Nina. I think spending enough time with each of these trees will help you choose a name for them. Naming things establishes relationship—not ownership, but relationship. It’s part of why I love to learn the names of birds—it puts me into relationship with them. Be well and enjoy! Ann
Sunday afternoon the snow banks had melted enough that I was able to take the dog for a walk at a nearby trail. I too took a picture of a tree that had tiny buds. We’ve now had two warm days, so I’d best get out to capture an update of the tree. It will be cold later this week and we’ll all adjust, as we’ve had a dose of spring and we know it will arrive for good soon.
I’m glad to know that so many others appreciate all that trees offer to we humans.
Thank you for this thoughtful comment, Mary Lou. I went out to measure my leaf yesterday after two cold days. No new growth, but bravely hanging on. Ann
Ii have a similar old crabtree in my backyard – she is an old and faithful companion. I take to her every day when I am washing dishes!
Lovely sharing, Suzanne. Thank you! Ann