Paper Birch – A Study of the Nature of a Tree

Paper Birch Tree

Paper Birch © 2014 Bo Mackison

…It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
~ Robert Frost, Birches

Known as a Canadian tree,
its habitat dips into the cooler regions of the United States.
Northeast, Midwest, Pacific Northwest.

Paper Birch Tree

Three Trunks, Paper Birch © 2014 Bo Mackison

Birch tree, a variety of common names.

Paperbark birch
White birch
Paper birch
Canoe birch

Paper Birch Tree

Paper Birch Bark with New Life © 2014 Bo Mackison

Trees just beginning out in life and newer branches on settled trees are white barked,
smooth at first, then knotted with black spirals,
finally emerging as papery bark,
shades of browns, grays, greens and creams,
multiple layers,
wild and messy. And precious to the eye and hand.

Paper Birch Tree

Paper Birch Tree and Canopy © 2014 Bo Mackison

The canopy is my space. A place to spy on visitors and nature’s ways.

Like me, it too must have sun, a place of its own in full sun,
or it will not thrive.

Yet it is a pioneer. After fire or clear-cut, the birch is an early returner.
It makes do with less than tolerable conditions as long as it has its sunlight.

Paper Birch Tree

Paper Birch Bark © 2014 Bo Mackison

Its botanical name is Betula papyrifera.
Papyrus. Oh yes.

If you’ve ever handled the fibrous papyrus, woven horizontal and vertically and pressed flat,
then you will see evidence of those very first papers in this curling, peeling bark
its deep reds and oranges exposed.

Textures so full of depth, the longing to add a human element is strong
and equally strong, the urge to let it be as it is.

Paper Birch Tree

Paper Birch © 2014 Bo Mackison

An arborist writes the “catkins offer little special interest”.
I disagree. Delicate and pale green, swinging with the rhythm of spring winds.
Seeds feed the redpoll, pine siskin, chickadee; the catkins feed the ruffed grouse.

Catkins transform into nutkins, winged and fringed,
and fly the seeds away from its parent in autumn.

Roots and wings, the parent tree provides.

Paper Birch Tree

My Three Trunk Seat © 2014 Bo Mackison

Once the birch was utilitarian –
Bark as canoe cover.
Containers – baskets, bowls, baby carriers.
Comforts – mats, bedding.
Giver of light – torches.
Tool maker – spears, bows and arrows.
Transportation – snowshoes and sleds.
Sustenance – birch syrup, beer, medicinal tonics.

My birch?

It continues its tradition as a container – as I perch in its tri-trunked seat.
As a comfort – when I hold its wildness in my hands
As a giver of light – of the interior sort.

And as sustenance – for my heart and soul.

Woundedness as the Source of Strength – Growth in Difficult Situations

Volcanic Tree © 2014 Bo Mackison

Volcanic Tree © 2014 Bo Mackison

Nobody escapes being wounded. We all are wounded people, whether physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. The main question is not “How can we hide our wounds?” so we don’t have to be embarrassed, but “How can we put our woundedness in the service of others?” When our wounds cease to be a source of shame, and become a source of healing, we have become wounded healers. ~ Henry Nouwen

This tree is a testament to growth in the most challenging and demanding of situations. Growing in the volcanic ash, this tree survives. Not without cost. Not perfectly. But still it grows.

You might think that volcanic ash would not be a hospitable growing medium, black specks, supporting little life. Yet, once the heat of the fire of the ash has cooled, life gradually returns. With rainfall, plants begin to grow. Animals return to the devastated area.

Volcanic deposits can eventually develop into some of the richest lands on earth.

Nature does not hide its woundedness. But it serves as a reminder that, given time and healing circumstances, growth ensues. Life continues.

A Series of Photographs – Exploring the Creative Process

Palo Verde

Palo Verde © 2014 Bo Mackison

Lens: Jimmy
Film: Claunch 72 Monochrome

Often I am a slow photographer.

I check the times of sunrise and sunset, and plan shooting times to take advantage of the golden light. I pack my camera bag with a combination of multiple lenses and diffusers and hoods, with dust protectors and extra batteries and memory cards. I attach a heavy tripod to the bag, too.

This is slow photography. I sit and absorb the feel of a place. I connect with the space. I may wait for a certain cloud formation to float into a certain location, or a shadow to darken a rock.

And though it can be hard work, I find most of  the process passionately engaging. (I could do without the extra gear weight, especially when hiking in the desert, but…that’s part of the experience.)

Palo Verde

Palo Verde © 2014 Bo Mackison

Lens: Jane
Film: Blanko

But sometimes I am a spur of the moment photographer.

I grab my iPhone. I open the camera and I start shooting.

One of my favorite techniques for letting go and giving myself full permission to enjoy the process is what I refer to as my “shake and take” technique.

Palo Verde

Palo Verde © 2014 Bo Mackison

Lens: Kaimal Mark II
Film: Blanko

Yep. I open the Hipstamatic app on my iPhone and I take a photo.

Then I simply shake my cell phone. The app randomly changes lenses and film and I retake the photograph. I often shake and take a dozen photos of the same subject. Then I look at the photographs.

I’ll get a few duplicates – same lens and film combination – and choose which one I prefer. Otherwise, I simply take what pops up randomly.

I find it fascinating how the different combinations change a simple subject.

Palo Verde

Palo Verde © 2014 Bo Mackison

Lens: Jane
Film: Claunch 72 Monochrome

In this series, I took photos of a palo verde tree while in my car.

I was waiting for a friend and noticed the overhanging branches dangling over the car. I opened the window, aimed towards the sky, took a photo, shook the cell phone, and then repeated. A lot!

Happily, the app records the lens, film, and other data, so when I find a combination I am fond of, I can replicate it with different subjects.

Palo Verde

Palo Verde © 2014 Bo Mackison

Lens: Lucifer VI
Film: Blanko

There’s a lot to be said for a creative process that can change with my mood.

Slow and pensive, quick and experimental, metaphorical or playful. The many moods of the photographer and the resulting photos.

Cottonwood at Historic Empire Ranch

Cottonwood

Cottonwood at Empire Ranch © 2014 Bo Mackison

For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. ~ Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

A tree stands in the spreading grasslands of the Empire Ranch, a thriving ranch from the 1870s to the 1970s.

Empire Ranch was not only a ranch. It was the set for dozens of western styled movies and television shows, filmed from 1946 through 1998.

I imagine many a movie great walked the land under this cottonwood tree.

Just a few of the many movies icons and films shot on this wide open “set” were: John Wayne in Red River, (1948); Gordon McRae, Shirley Jones in Oklahoma!(1955); James Arness, Dennis Weaver, Amanda Blake in Gunsmoke, several shows (1955-75); Burt Lancaster, Kirk Douglas in Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, (1957); Lorne Greene, Michael Landon, Dan Blocker, several shows of Bonanza (1959-73); Barbra Streisand, Kris Kristofferson in A Star Is Born (1976); and Barbara Stanwyck, Walter Huston in The Furies (1950).

They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. ~ Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

This tree has a history, but the history I imagine for it is a fictional one.

It is easy to imagine a movie crew resting in the shade of this cottonwood between takes filmed under the unforgiving desert sun. It is easy to imagine the children who lived and played on the working ranch bringing a picnic spread to eat under the tress. Perhaps there was a doll party or two. Or even a child’s birthday party.

An argument, a first kiss, a fist fight, a marriage proposal? The tree was near enough the ranch to be a convenient gathering place for all sorts of events.

Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars,

all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farm boy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow. ~ Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

A solitary tree in the high desert is a mighty thing.

Few trees reach the stature of a cottonwood in this land. The cottonwoods create a sinuous ribbon of life contrasted with the parched white grasses spreading away from the dry creek beds. The trees, with deep roots, can access the deeper water aquifers that other plants cannot.

This tree stand solitary, sacaton grasslands spread from it in all directions for miles. In the harsh light, the light is brighter, the shadows are deeper. The cottonwood is beginning to leaf out, but the brilliant light transforms the individual fluttering leaves into brilliantly lit diamonds.

Empire Ranch offers many opportunities for photographs, but for its introduction, I chose to focus on this one tree. When I combine this stoic tree, leaves rustling, with the distant voices in my imagination, it is enough for an introduction.

 

Beauty in an Autumn Fog

Autumn Fog

Autumn Fog © 2013 Bo Mackison

“In nature, everything has a job. The job of the fog is to beautify further the existing beauties!” ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

I have been waiting for the sun to brighten the landscapes in the Madison area.

I had a list of places I wanted to visit during Wisconsin’s beautiful autumn. I waited and waited. And those magical sun-filled days did not appear. I held on so tightly to the idea of “need sun for this explore” and eventually I had to cross several places off my list – places that close for the season on October 31st.

Yesterday I finally took a long look at the calendar, and realized I was not getting a single one of all those October days back. True, it’s been a busy, eventful month, but there were days when I changed plans due to weather, thinking I could fit a visit in when the weather was more suitable. Yesterday, I realized there were only two days left in October, and I had not visited many of the places I usually visit to soak in the autumn beauty.

It was foggy, a bit misty. But I pulled out my winter coat, waterproof and warm, and went for a walk in a nearby park. The fog was moody, thick in some places on the trail, but it offered an interesting color intensity that I would likely have missed if I were walking in bright sunlight. In the gray mist, the colors that do show through are mystical and mesmerizing. An unexpected gift.

Today it is no longer foggy. The rain has washed the foggy blanket away. Perhaps today is a good enough day to explore a rainy autumn day.

~~~

Disclosure: There are several good reasons why I pack up and head to Arizona for the dark seasons of the year. I do love Arizona’s stark beauty fiercely. I also love her sunshine., especially since I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, and the lack of sun plays havoc with my biological chemistry. I delayed my travels this year, for the very best of reasons, and decided to play it smart once I noticed the effects the diminishing sunlight had on my moods and energy levels. I have a thing about taking medications, but there is a time when it is the right call. The treatment appears to be helping, hence the photos of the park in yesterday’s fog.