Michigan Forest Life - July 5, 2025

Good day, nature enthusiasts!

Let me inspire you with another sunrise from Winterfield Pines Nature Sanctuary. I took this photo from Sunrise Corner overlooking the neighbor's wetlands yesterday morning (Photo 1).

Yesterday, I visited my favorite tree on the property. An old timer. The Grandfather Tree. 

I want to check in on the tree to be sure everything is well. Standing at its base, I look at the tree's textured bark, each section like an island of its own topography. Like a large, ragged flake surrounded by deep bark canyons that separate one bark flake from another. 

My eyes followed the trunk up to the sky, where its canopy details drown in the brilliant sun shining directly above (Photo 2). The remains of large branches reach out like arms along the trunk; many long dead, many with diameters equal in size to trunks of other tall trees in the surrounding forest. 

From so close, I cannot see where the tree's top broke off in a windstorm decades ago. But I can see a kink in far up the trunk - evidence of another much older injury. Perhaps a bifurcation beginning after the tree was already seventy feet tall, where one of the twin trunks eventually snapped off in the wind more than a century ago.

This tree grows in a special place next to the West Branch of the Clam River. It is a lovely spot with the gentle hum of water dancing over a rock-covered streambed.

Trees of this vintage have earned an extra measure of reverence in my heart. They have been through a lot.

Placing my hand on the trunk I ask out loud, "How have things been, my friend?"

Like a doctor, I check the tree's girth using a diameter tape while I talk and listen. 38 1/2 inches (Photo 3). Not bad!

"Yes, you are one of the biggest of the big white pines," I comment as I pat the tree again. "But I found your older brother last fall. A quarter mile north, next to a nice clump of old cedars at the edge of the tag alder swamp. Your brother fooled me for a long time because he, too, lost his top. But I measured his diameter at 42 1/2" last fall."

A gentle breeze whips through the forest and all the leaves rustle. They all want to answer at once, but it is the Grandfather Tree, whose voice comes through loudest.

"I am glad you finally met the Bull Pine. Amazing how he can keep so well hidden." The wind continues to shake branches. "All is well, Dan. We could use some rain."

I drag my foot through the pine needles and debris on the forest floor.

"Dry indeed." I touch the tree's rough bark with my forehead and stretch my arms around to gather the measuring tape.

"There was a strong wind ten days ago. It took many limbs."

"Yes, I saw plenty on the trail while I was mowing yesterday." Thinking back, "but they were all dead limbs this time. I did not see any live branches on the ground."

"It is Mother Nature's pruning like you might trim your toenails, but it helps us in several ways." Another breeze shakes the pine's branches. "When a dead limb breaks off, it removes unnecessary weight and gives us more capacity to carry our live branches. It also allows us to begin restoring our protective skin - our bark - where the dead limb once was. When the limb falls to the ground, the limb decays and enriches the forest soil. That helps us and our offspring. Mother Nature's pruning is a good thing, my young friend. It is important. It is natural." 

"I am not so young anymore," I offer as the tree reads my mind.

"You are young for a tree," the sage tree whispers, its needles rustling again in the wind. "Enjoy the peace of the forest. We will grow old together." (Photo 4).

I wish you the friendship of a big tree, and a peace time in the forest...

Until next time,

Dan