Things the average tree witnesses

[D'Andre]

If you were a tree in the city, countryside, or woods...what would mostly likely happen in from or behind you. I'm not promoting vulgarity BTW. Lol here's mine
Couples first kiss
Gossip
Deer hiding from hunter
Forest sprite
A hug
Bare feet climbing
A swinging axe...

 

[Slime_Punk]

The ones near me see a lot of dogs taking a dump in the sun. Good thing they can't smell!

 

[Neonatal RRT]

1. The conversations between birds
2. The seasons and all the weather events in that area
3. The cycles of "plenty" and "drought" with regards to water and nutrients
4. The comings and goings of people and wildlife
5. Insects nibbling on your leaves and laying eggs in your bark

 

[Forest Cat]

There are some trees around my house that are at least 150 years old. Big spruce. They have seen everything that happened here for all that time. Something about that is facinating. If only they could talk.

 

[Luca]

The ones near me see a lot of dogs taking a dump in the sun. Good thing they can't smell!

Lmao! I was thinking a similar thing, dogs peeing and marking their territory. There is one specific tree that my dogs mark every day and I’m surprised it’s still alive lol.

 

[Tom]

I used to hike up to this grove of Bristlecone pines in Nevada. These trees live only at high altitudes and are in the 3-4000 yr old range. I used to just sit and think about what they were alive during, such as the Trojan War etc. But they haven't seen those things. Just the natural flow of the seasons and animals up and down. Me included. Not 'average' trees, but pretty remarkable. The oldest located elsewhere is about 5000 years old.

 

[Jeepcarpenter]

Ugh.. the constant writhings and and explorations from insects, the gentle chaotic rhythm and noise of their movements throughout the bark..
the vibration of worms digesting and traversing through the shallows of the roots behind and below.. the buzz of bee’s collecting pollen, gentle wafting breezes upon twig and leaf uniformly as wisps and birds alike flutter through the passages overhead.
The warmth and nuisance of harbouring nests both within the outreach of branches as well as deep within, the menace of squirrels and birds equally staining the depths with life while also going forth and exuding new life from and into the world beyond.
The erection and collapse of various buildings nearby, the ever-droning noise as cities develop across seasons and migrations..
A person who realized an allergy, a love grown in parallel over time, a bad choice after too much fun with friends.. a painter infatuated with the timely colour of leaves, a carpenter admiring the burls from a storm that passed years ago, a farmer evaluating how the season has affected crop, various animals entangled in needs, instincts or simply residing, and even simply enjoying the locale or nearby food availability’s.
A cocoon patiently waiting for the right moment, butterflies looking for food and safe haven, a hawk simply looking for a place to rest as it surveys the horizon.. and person sitting and watching the passing channeled winds pressing into intertwining branches, the breeze caressing every leaf like waves and currents cascading the oceans depths in chaotically orchestrated symmetry, the man seemingly swayed by the enactment always quoting the likes of fireworks or aquatica..

 

[Forest Cat]

View attachment 82669

I used to hike up to this grove of Bristlecone pines in Nevada. These trees live only at high altitudes and are in the 3-4000 yr old range. I used to just sit and think about what they were alive during, such as the Trojan War etc. But they haven't seen those things. Just the natural flow of the seasons and animals up and down. Me included. Not 'average' trees, but pretty remarkable. The oldest located elsewhere is about 5000 years old.

That reminded me of this, on an old farm there are four old oak trees that seems to be planted in a square and together they look like one big tree. They are called "The Kings Oaks" because it is said that a King is burried underneath them. But no one knows for sure which King. Those trees have seen a lot.

 

[Tom]

That reminded me of this, on an old farm there are four old oak trees that seems to be planted in a square and together they look like one big tree. They are called "The Kings Oaks" because it is said that a King is burried underneath them. But no one knows for sure which King. Those trees have seen a lot.

View attachment 82670

King Arthur Arthurson I imagine.

 

[Rodafina]

Birches by Robert Frost | Poetry Foundation

When I see birches bend to left and right

www.poetryfoundation.org

Spoiler: Birches, by Robert Frost

Birches​

BY ROBERT FROST
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay
As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust—
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows—
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
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.

 

[Jeepcarpenter]

Birches by Robert Frost | Poetry Foundation

When I see birches bend to left and right

www.poetryfoundation.org

Spoiler: Birches, by Robert Frost

Birches​

BY ROBERT FROST
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay
As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust—
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows—
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
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.

Both the picture and the poem, absolutely stunning.. I am in awe of the people here.

 

[Gerald Wilgus]

That reminded me of this, on an old farm there are four old oak trees that seems to be planted in a square and together they look like one big tree. They are called "The Kings Oaks" because it is said that a King is burried underneath them. But no one knows for sure which King. Those trees have seen a lot.

View attachment 82670

Well, I guess if Richard III can be found in a car park, there's hope here. The head of Charles I?

 

[Myself87]

1. in the city: Some homeless person taking a shelter under me.

2. Countryside: People skiing or jogging past me on the old dirt road depending on what season it is.

3. woods: Blueberries growing and eventually get cowered in snow.

 

[Aspychata]

The trees represent mother earth. They protect the birds. They show me the seasons. Some trees whisper secrets by rustling their leaves. People climb their branches to save them from being cut down. My walnut tree in my yard smelled so good, and it gave me snacks as l was growing up. In fact, l make pesto using walnuts, because l love the flavor.

 

[RESleight]

 

[Qoyote]

Tens of thousands of posts, trolls she has to ban and a whole lot of random generators.

(hey someone had to eventually)

Our ash tree got a disease and died while I was away. It wasn't that old, only 70-something rings, which means they probably planted it when they built the house. Didn't make me as sad as it would've a couple years ago so I guess I've hardened a bit. The house doesn't get as much shade now though and it's a hot, hot summer.

 

[Alexej]

If only they could talk.

or if only we could hear them - how do we know they are not talking.

 

[Forest Cat]

or if only we could hear them - how do we know they are not talking.

I have read that some scientists claim spruce trees communicate through roots. They have root systems that grows into each other and if you chop down one tree, it affects the trees around them. This can be a worrying thought for people like me who have used lots of trees to build cabins and stuff. I know one thing for sure, when you are in a forest surrounded by trees, something is going on that we can't see. Trees are special.

 

[Rodafina]

or if only we could hear them - how do we know they are not talking.

I have read that some scientists claim spruce trees communicate through roots. They have root systems that grows into each other and if you chop down one tree, it affects the trees around them.

I mean, if we could bring fungi into the discussion, then there seems to be a good deal of communication happening in the roots and trees.

Underground Networking: The Amazing Connections Beneath Your Feet

Next time you’re exploring a forest, consider what lies below the soil, leaves, and moss that carpet the ground. Underneath the forest floor, intertwined with the roots of the trees, is a fascinating microscopic network of fungus.

www.nationalforests.org

Common Mycorrhizae Network: A Review of the Theories and Mechanisms Behind Underground Interactions

Most terrestrial plants establish symbiotic associations with mycorrhizal fungi for accessing essential plant nutrients. Mycorrhizal fungi have been frequently reported to interconnect plants via a common mycelial network (CMN), in which nutrients and signaling compounds can be exchanged between...

www.frontiersin.org

 

[Neonatal RRT]

or if only we could hear them - how do we know they are not talking.

Well,...neighboring plants actually do communicate with each other via the mycelial network (soil fungi).

For example, it has been shown that if insects begin to nibble on the leaves of a plant, it will signal the neighboring plant to direct calcium and silicon to their leaves,...making the leaves harder, "crunchier", and less appealing to the insects. Insects tend to prefer soft, new growth. If it is too hard,...they will move to another plant.

If you are familiar with the Avatar movies, the network of communication through the roots of the plants represented in this story is similar to how the mycelial network operates.