Some decades ago, three Birch trees were planted in the Southwest corner of the property. I wanted a grove, and my intention was to plant more in the coming years. I don’t remember how fast the first one died, but even with two trees I considered it a grove. One is a Paper Birch and the other a Japanese White Birch. The Latin names are so cool: Betula papyrifera and Betula platyphylla ‘Japonica.’ The grove never expanded because they like water; in this yard, that’s a good and bad thing and the bad led us to refrain from adding more. Good because there is plenty of water below, and sometimes above, the surface to get soaked up and enjoyed by the trees. Bad because trees, and all plants on the property, grow as if there is so much water that they must extend and expand to utilize every drop. Thus, everything, including the Birches, become gangly.
The first few years, the trees were more delicate and the somewhat over-extended branches more featherlike in the breeze. It was peaceful and the light through the branches sometimes wavered as if seeing through old-timey glass. As the years passed, those dainty branches became sturdier, but less flexible, and still too gangly. This meant they tended to break in the wind and grow at odd angles. Now, not so much dainty as quirky. Then there was an ice storm that caused many trees in the yard to break and blast, with the resounding crack of a rifle shot. The Birches were a bit beaten, but the trees soldiered on.
The only noticeable difference in these two varieties of Birch is the way the bark acts. The Paper Birch has bark that peels off like, wait for it, paper. I adore that tree and the way it sheds, and I often thought it would have been nice to have a grove and choose one to make a canoe as sculpture for the yard. This is the tree that would have been used for canoes. Jeff thought I was nuts. The Japanese White Birch is so similar as to seem identical, except no paper-like pieces emanating from the trunk. Oh, and it is more susceptible to birch borers.
Also more than a decade ago, but long after the trees were fully established TREES, a second ice storm did much more damage to Birches throughout the land. Up and down the valley you would see branches turned toward the ground. As I often said, trees are not usually in the shape of an M or N or W. Our trees are included in that disastrous change; one of the branches turned downward and now points to the ground. What happened was the water (remember, they like to suck that up) in the branches froze and blasted the xylem such that it softened and bent. You’ve seen this if you’ve ever had lettuce freeze in your refrigerator. A testament to the trees is that neither were killed, they simply started to look a bit like a science fiction creature with tentacles that became branches (or is that branches that became tentacles?).
But now the trees are on their last legs. I always known that Birches are short-lived trees, but they are so much more beautiful than the native Alders. And it is amazing to see a bird sit on the tiniest of tippy tops of those branches as the flora and the fauna wave together in the wind. The borers have gotten to our Japanese friend and the gangly branches of the vertical canoe will be next. It is only through the grace of their widespread branching and early leaf fall that they do not catch the wind and topple in a storm. In fact, this year I had removed a mostly horizontal branch, that was about half the size of the trunk, in order to prevent any crashing into the neighbor’s garage. Thus it is I’ve decided they both must lose any of the parts that would topple onto chicken coops, garages, or fences.
However, what finally allowed me to accept that they must go is that they aren’t going to go entirely. I’m going to have them cut to about twelve feet, maybe more. I can see where I want them cut so that the trunks remain in place. They will be at the “back” of my new Japanese Teahouse (I have had the plans for many of those decades the trees have grown). The one with borers will not be touching, but I hope to make the papery trunk within touching distance to enjoy the sensations it provides. The insect-damaged trunk will continue to draw birds to it, so I am devising a sort of bird blind concept to watch that in one direction and the pond in the other. The paper may drift down onto a “back porch platform.”
Siting the teahouse was always a stopping point, which is part of why it never got built. We wanted it by the pond but didn’t want to block the view of Herons and our Mallard families. Taking out Blueberries was definitely not going to happen. Blocking sun to the house was out. That back corner was never available because of the grove. Well, now the grove will absorb the teahouse. And the teahouse will be raised on pier blocks because it is wet out there, and it will pay reverence to the Birch trunks. I can see it so clearly in my mind in the sunny SW corner of the property with the talking land all around. What, the land talks? Yes, it’s wet enough that there are gurgles, pops, and bubbles making noises almost all year and, when it’s drier, there are buzzes, whistles, and toots of bugs and birds. Oh, and I need a path, and a bridge, and some plants. I just love that daydreaming costs nothing in terms of human resources. And how it is so great to have a plan. Some of them come true!
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