I was hunting for a particular picture for a project I was working on and, as often happens when I look for something, I found all sorts of things that were NOT that thing. Some of the images thoroughly distracted me from my purpose and, next thing I knew, I was looking at some pictures from December of 2013.
We were treated to a freezing fog that was followed by a gloriously clear day. I suspect it was a weekend and we had nothing scheduled, so I spent some time walking around looking for interesting photo opportunities on the farm. And while I don’t profess to being a skillful photographer, I can still recognize the beauty of the world in the images I captured.
Two mature ash trees used to reside to the south of the old barn and were just far enough from the road that road crews and line workers never saw a need to take chunks off of them. They were, by all measurements of tree aesthetic, good looking trees. It just so happened that 2013 was the best ash seed production year we have experienced during our tenure at the farm. But, it seemed to me that the trees were still reluctant to release the seed pods. They were holding them as if they were fearful of that moment their children would leave to find their own way in the world.
So, the trees held the seed pods in clusters - lifting them up so nature’s paintbrush could turn them into works of art.
We’ve had many chances since then to take pictures of hoarfrost on the farm, but none that featured the ash trees as much as 2013. There have also been numerous occurrences where we failed to take the camera for a walk when nature put on the dressing gown. Did we still acknowledge the beauty? Of course we did. But, the energy to do more than that wasn’t always available. It's our loss, as I am certain Mother Nature is secure in the knowledge that she dresses up well whether we say so or not.
Sometimes, I even have the time and energy to recognize beautiful things, like a hoarfrost or a beautiful sunset or a butterfly on my finger, with a post on our blog. Again, I suspect the rest of the world went about its business just fine without a writing and photo contribution from me. Perhaps nature doesn’t even care much if I DO manage to praise its beauty with prose and photos. I don’t know.
I guess I’ve never thought to ask.
I did, however, start to think about the concept of life and the energy to live fully or partly. Why did we only see seed pods two or three years on the ash trees - before they finally succumbed to the Emerald Ash Borer a few years ago?
Trees are known to have cycles when it comes to seed production, often responding to seasonal extremes. For example, this research on cone production for long-leaf pine shows the variation of seed production from year to year. For an ash tree, which is wind pollinated, drier conditions during flowering is probably a good thing. The weather fit that description in 2013, which may explain the extremely good production of seed that year.
I will admit that this isn’t the first time I’ve considered this topic. In my prior musings, I came to the conclusion that trees, like humans, have limits as to how much energy they have to expend over a given season. They can distribute that energy in various ways between root development, seed production, and the other parts that come with living the life of a tree. Conditions may expand or contract those limits and they may also influence how that energy is spent. Now I know that biologists often refer to this concept as the energy allocation strategy.
For example, if conditions are such that the plant might feel its time is nearing an end, it might change its strategy and increase the amount of energy it spends on seed production to perpetuate its kind. Is it possible that 2013 was the harbinger for the arrival of the ash borer not many years later? I don’t know.
And it doesn’t matter if I know.
I take equal parts solace and umbrage with the energy allocation strategy premise that an organism’s resources are finite and that there needs to be a strategy for spending those resources. I guess it’s always a bit disappointing to me when I realize my own limits. And, I suspect I’m like many of you. I still fool myself into believing I can find hidden reserves beyond what I have been given so I can do more. Sometimes I do that so well that I even believe I’ve been successful for a time.
Until I pay later. Sometimes hours later. Sometimes weeks later. Sometimes it’s a much later later.
On the other hand, this serves as a good reminder to me that any one measure of my productivity - or of a tree’s productivity - fails to take into account the whole of a life lived. Trees send some energy to the leaves and some energy to regenerating bark and yet more is used as the tree stretches ever closer to the ceiling that is the stars. And they do all of those things every season - just with different allocations of their energy and resources as the realities of the current season demands.
I’ll take that as a useful lesson. Perhaps I can’t always accomplish the fanciest or showiest achievements every time out. Not every Genuine Faux Farm article is perfect. I won’t be able to successfully grow every crop I intend to grow - even if I have the purpose of growing it well. And I won’t always be able to show you evidence of how I succeeded in my own energy allocation strategy.
Because sometimes the energy is going to the roots.
Thank you for considering my thoughts and words. I hope you have a fine remainder of your day!
Yep, Rob, needs seem infinite, resources are limited. A wise friend once explained that tasks are divided into important vs not-important and urgent vs not-urgent. While nearly everyone agrees that important and urgent items should get most of our immediate attention, while not-important and not-urgent things should have lowest priority, it's what you deem next most worthy of your attention that's critical. Too often we choose to address not-mportant but urgent, rather than the more valuable, important yet not-urgent.