We’ve finally had respite from a couple months of drought. During the dry season I visited Bear Swamp, home to Tupelo trees believed to be five hundred years old. Also known as Black Gum, in the winter they are unassuming, tall and slender snaky trees with a thick wavy bark that looks scraped on with a painter’s knife. Tupelo are known for their berries and flowers and bright leaves, so winter was not the best time to go see them. They aren't majestic, like redwoods or even the many huge old trees that I've visited. They are quiet and unassuming, slow growing ancients hidden in a swamp where the encroaching saltwater will eventually kill them. I wanted to say hello before they were gone.
I chose to avoid the muck and the mosquitoes of summer. I’ll have to return next year to see them in bloom. There is plenty of beauty here, but you have to go looking for it. My trip to Joshua Tree and the Grand Canyon reminded me that living in a flat Pineland means I need to look deeper and closer to find beauty. Next year, I will follow the orchid blooms in the Pine Barrens and try to find some of the tiny beauties like Pink Lady’s Slipper and Dragon Mouth.
I shared the two photos above for my friend
who lost a great tree friend this year. A dead tree is never dead. It gives life to countless other beings when it falls and grows no more. Whether it’s dry and serves as a seat for us two-leggers, feeds fungi and moss, or becomes home to little furry creatures or the crawlies that lived in its bark when alive, it lives on through its gift to us all.The hike to see the trees was a pleasant one, and the first mile of the trail is used by joggers and dog walkers. One mystery I encountered was finding a whole turnip on the trail. My guess was a local gardener tossed it here for the squirrels and the woodchucks, but it was amusing to find.
While the trees have dropped their leaves, the birds remain to pick them free of bugs. Woodpeckers abound, and I got my first photos of a Brown Creeper on this hike. They are relatively small birds with a long, curved beak, easily identified by their behavior of crawling up tree trunks in a spiraling climb as they seek bugs and grubs in the bark. They have a distinctive high-pitched call you can easily learn to recognize.
This is also the season for White-Breasted Nuthatches, who like to climb down tree trunks. I haven’t seen what happens when a Nuthatch meets a Creeper on the same tree, but I imagine it’s quite unlike when a body meet a body, comin’ thro’ the rye.
For the last week or two, I’ve been exhausted even after a good night’s sleep. The winter, the election, and a family member’s declining health are pushing me towards a depression. I usually go for hikes or bikes in the early morning, but I need the sun right now, so I am shifting towards the early afternoon. Here’s a reminder (mostly to myself) that there’s still beauty in the Pinelands in winter, and there are pink elephants to keep you on your toes, if you care to look.
Look out for beauty and watch out for pink elephants.
Good on you finding finding beauty where you can.
I'm also struggling stay positive in the wake of the election -- and Christmas cheer isn't helping much. Aside from the religious traditions, a latent meaning of holidays at the darkest time of year* is a reminder that light and color WILL return to the world. And that will happen in 2025 as well. But it's naive to deny things will get worse before they get better.
That's why it's so important to share the things that bring us peace as we steel ourselves for battles ahead of us. Thanks for posting this!
🌎🌏🌎🌏🌎🌏🌎🌏🌎🌏
*In the northern hemisphere, at least.
Great shots of that Brown Creeper, they don’t make it easy that’s for sure