Walter Brennan

A friend contacted me.  I knew him about ten years ago.  When he asks, "How are you doing?" I think back to 2007.  And wow, now I realize, for the first time ever, that I am walking better, with less of a limp and much less pain than I have for the past 12 years.  I can remember going to the doctor 12 years ago and listing my complaints and he said, (this astounds me now), "Do you remember Walter Brennan?"  In other words he was telling me that some people limp and some people don't limp and get used to it.  I know this because I am a big fan of the old cowboy shows.  That doctor makes me so mad now.  I needed new hips!  I wish he could have seen me today, leaving the gym, walking without any limp, without any pain, beautiful endorphins flowing through my system after lifting weights and walking on the treadmill.  I am no  Walter Brennan.  Thanks to a new friend, I realized this huge accomplishment.  Someday I may limp like Walter Brennan but today is not the day.

Welcome Back!

Other people have reported hearing sand hill cranes trumpeting and red winged black birds calling.  I have been listening but have not heard or seen those early migrants. But, with the warm weather I had the windows open, I heard my red shouldered hawk calling.  Welcome back red shouldered hawk!  I shall enjoy your incessant talking all summer. I sincerely hope you find enough frogs and salamanders to eat.  Usually red winged black birds are my harbinger of spring but this will do; this will do.

History Ignored

On Saturday I picked up a friend in Anoka on our way to a tree biology class.  She lives on Madison.  Teasing her I asked if her street was named after Dolly or James.  She told me that from the south starting with George Washington toward the north ending with stern looking William McKinley, the streets in Anoka are named after each president in chronological order.  What?!  For 30 years I have driven through this town and missing a lesson in history?  Wait a minute, who was President Cross?  I've seen cross presidents but never a President Cross.  I guess generally the streets are named after Presidents but not exclusively. Now I will proceed with more care driving north and south through  Anoka and try to predict the next street before I can read the sign.  

Tree Biology

Today I took a master naturalist class on tree biology.  We started out with the definition of a tree.  The definition is not so easy. Tall plant with a single trunk?  What is tall?  400 feet is tall and most trees don't get that high.  And a single trunk? Well, aspen are a kind of tree but under the ground they can share a single root and the same DNA.  If you clear cut an aspen forest they will grow right back up again in quick order because they use the same roots.  Trees have fruit? Yes, deciduous trees have fruits.  Some have large fruits like apples and others have smaller fruit like the maple helicopter seeds or round basswood seeds.  What do trees eat?  Although they came move 100 gallons of water from their roots out of their stomata on their leaves, they don't actually eat the water.  They don't eat fertilizer.  Since 49% of the tree is carbon ad 50% is hydrogen and oxygen and less than 1% is nitrogen and other trace minerals, the best way to feed a tree is to walk up to it and breath on it.  Expel your breath against the trunk or the leaves or the branches.  Blow on a tree. Trees eat air.  Trees feed on air.  From massive coastal redwoods to gnarly oaks to sinewy bamboo air is what feeds them.  From bark to phloem trees are amazing organisms.  Take two trees. Plant one in a park.  Plant the other tree on a boulevard between the street and the sidewalk.  Which tree will grow faster?  I would think the tree in the park with plenty of room and fresh air and soil that is permeable and not compacted by traffic would grow faster.  I am wrong.  The tree on the boulevard grows faster.  The water on the sidewalk can't be absorbed into the concrete so it runs off right onto the roots of the tree.  The tree in the park doesn't get as much water right onto the roots so it grows slower.  The tree in the park lives longer but grows at a slower pace.  Some trees have male and female sexual organs on the same branch.  Some trees have male branches and female branches.  Some trees, like ginkgo, have male trees and female trees.  Most trees have the pith in the center of the trunk.  So if you take a slice of the tree you will see concentric circles indicating growth years radiating outward from the pith out to the bark.  But if a tree grows on a slope or a tree is growing crooked to reach for the sun out of the shade of a neighboring tree, the pith will be at one end or the other towards the bark. Or maybe wind pushes a tree to lean to one side.  For whatever reason the tree is growing at an angle, a deciduous tree will put the extra wood to balance itself out on top of the pith.  So a tree leaning to the right will have the pith closer to the right side of the trunk. A coniferous tree will put the extra wood on the other side so a tree leaning to the right with have the pith closer to the left side of the trunk.  How crazy is that? Two kinds of trees choosing the opposite coping method?  Trees are just amazing.  The picture above shows an acacia tree growing out in the savanna on the Masai Mara grasslands.  I took this photo ten years ago.  I arrived on this spot in a truck and I could barely make out the track where our truck traveled. I looked around and as far as my eyes could see I saw nothing human.  Of course I saw my fellow passengers and our truck but other than that I saw no houses, no roads, no planes, no towers, no telephone lines, no structures of any kind and it was a very cool experience. I turned in circles and enjoyed the lack of human impact. I loved these acacia trees. I loved the shade they provided on these grass lands. I loved the hills.  I loved the slopes.  I loved the wildness.  I loved the wilderness.  A forest of acacia trees would not have been as cool as being here on this day seeing an occasional acacia tree on the savanna.  I'm not saying acacia trees are my favorite.  I also love oaks and maples and conifers.  I am not a fan of buck thorn or other invasive species but bamboo in the right place are quite lovely.  I get excited to see palm trees because I know I am in a warm place but actually palm trees are more like a grass than a tree.  Olive trees are cool.  Cork oaks are also cool because you can strip them of their bark and the bark will grow back again.  The bark on eucalyptus trees if fascinating. If you come near one of the oaks in my yard with a chain saw I will knock you flat.  If you use that chain saw on the amur maples?  I would pay you to do it. So I guess I really can not say I have a favorite tree.  Like people, the diversity is fascinating.  I love the diversity of trees.

Friday!

via GIPHY

This Side of the Sod

I was reminded this week that life doesn't owe us anything.  We're alive.  Others are dead. We're not alive because we're better or smarter or more deserving than those who have died.  I asked a work acquaintance a question.  Well, she is a 25+ year work acquaintance and more than an acquaintance but we've never spent unpaid time together so I guess she's not really a friend.  But I like her and she likes me so we're more than acquaintances.  I asked her about a woman I heard who died.  That woman was her sister, her best friend, and the longest love of her life.  She told me, over a 60 minute period a series of interactions they have had together as sisters and best friends. Frontal lobe dementia stole her brain.  Bit by bit, ability by ability, she died quickly and slowly.  Every time they came up with a good plan to handle her lack of ability she got worse before than plan could be put into effect.  I can not imagine helping a sister through a situation like this. My heart would break.  On the last night of her life her sister (my acquaintance) stopped by the nursing home to visit her. She noticed the fear in her face at being lifted by a hoyer lift into bed because she was unable to walk anymore.  Her sister fed her supper because she was the only one her sister would allow to do it.  Her sister helped her into her pajamas.  Her sister kissed her nose before going home at 7 o'clock on a Friday night.  Her sister put on a relaxation CD for her to listen to as she fell asleep.  Her sister died before the CD was over. I hope I am as lucky to die loved like this woman was loved.  My friend listened to the CD again a week after her death. Listening to the music her sister heard as her heart beat for the last time was a spiritual experience.  My friend/acquaintance helped me realize, again, that I am not owed anything.  I could die at any time. Do I wonder about politics? Yes. Do I wonder why buying beer on  Sunday is the biggest issue for the Minnesota legislature?  Yes I do.  My friend/acquaintance reminded me that any day I spend on this side of the sod is a blessing and I shouldn't take it for granted.

The High Mountains of Portugal

I snagged this book at the library when I saw it was written by the same author of Life of Pi.  I loved Life of Pi.  I also loved The High Mountains Of Portugal but it was nothing like Life of Pi.  This book has three separate shorter stories that don't seem related but eventually are somewhat and loosely related.   There were some moments of real comedy in there.  I would be reading along slowly enjoying the words and imagining the scene inside my head when it would dawn on me that this is sincerely funny.  In all three stories a man suffers a loss.  In the first story a man looses his son and lover to illness and then his father dies a couple days later.  He is upset.  He handles his emotions by walking backwards. He is so devastated with loss that he is literally turning his back to God by walking backwards.  There is a scene where his uncle is watching him approach from an upstairs window.  As he walks backwards on the sidewalk, another man notices him coming close to hitting his head on a lamp post.  The man helps his nephew by warning him of the danger and as the stranger walks away, he looks back to double check and ends up hitting his own head on a lamp post.  His nephew sees this and runs to his aid.  The nephew helps the man up.  They part.  Then his nephew strikes his head on a lamp post.  The uncle tries to help the nephew deal with his grief by offering him the use of his car for a trip the nephew is going to take to the high mountains of Portugal.  The nephew doesn't know how to drive. He doesn't want the car unless a driver comes with it. The problems he has with shifting and handling the car are hilarious.  This first story takes place in the beginning of the 1900's.  The second story takes place near the middle of the century and is totally surreal.  This man handles his loss by imagining his wife after her death. The third story takes place in modern times and although it starts out in Canada, it ends up in the high mountains of Portugal. The author describes a high savannah with humongous boulders strewn about erratically.  This man handles his loss by adopting a pet who helps him live in the moment and appreciate the simple things in life.  If you need a story to transport you to another place (like Portugal) and another time, this is a good book for you.