Trees at leisure

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THE LIB R ARY

OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

DAVIS

GIFT OF

FREDERICK L. GRIFFIN

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During its winter resting time, the tree stands
revealed, ready to give its most intimate
confidences to those who love it.

TREES AT LEISURE

BY

ANNA BOTSFORD COMSTOCK

PUBLISHED BY

THE COMSTOCK PUBLISHING CO

ITHACA, N.Y.

1916

f r

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

author hereby exp

app

o

f the cour-

shown her by Doubleday
Page & Co. in permitting her to re-
print Trees at Leisure from Country
Life in America, for which it was

copyrighted.

The author also wishes to express
her thanks to Professor Ralph W.
Curtis for the use of his photographs
of the Bird Cherry, Black Locust,
Lombardy Poplar, Tamarack, White
Ash, and Shagbark Hickory; to
Harry H. Knight for the photo-
graph of the Hemlock bole ; to Lewis
B. Hendershot for that of the White
Oak; and to Verne Morton for his
painstaking efforts in taking photo-
graphs for all the other illustrations

here used.

I*]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

beeches Frontispiece

AMERICAN ELM, YOUNG TREE . OfpOSlte 1

ELM AND SUGAR MAPLES 2

SUGAR MAPLES

THORN-APPLE

BIRD CHERRY
SUMAC .

4

6

8
10

BLACK OR YELLOW LOCUST 12

LOMBARDY POPLAR

APPLE TREE

BLACK WILLOW

PUSSY WILLOW

SYCAMORE

TAMARACK

BEECH

14

16
18
20
22
24
26

YELLOW OR RAY BIRCH 28

BLACK ASH

WHITE ASH

HEMLOCK

WHITE OAK

SHAGBARK HICKORY
BUTTERNUT . . . .

WHITE PINE

30

32
34
36

38
40
42

SNOW-COVERED HEMLOCK 44

FROSTED BEECHES

46

|5J

TREES AT LEISURE

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At no other time of year is the American elm
more beautiful than when it traces its grace-
ful lines against snow and gray skies.

TREES AT LEISURE

could know the part
trees have played in
the aesthetic education of man,
mayhap we should find that
they began this great and silent
schooling when the savage,
wearv from his chase in the
hot sun, sought refuge in their
refreshing shade. While rest-
ing there, his eyes raised to the
overhanging branches, there
may well have come to him an
uplift into the vague conscious-
ness of a realm of beauty as
far above his ken as the branches
and shifting leaves were above

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In sharp contrast to the benignant, inviting
curves of the elm are the self -centered outlines
of the isolated sugar maples.

TREES AT LEISURE

•

the reach of his hand. Ages
may have passed before man
gained sufficient mental stature
to pay admiring tribute to the
tree standing in all the glory of
its full leafage, shimmering in
the sunlight, making its myriad
bows to the restless winds; but
eons must have lapsed before
the human eye grew keen enough
and the human soul large enough
to give sympathetic comprehen-
sion to the beauty of bare
branches laced across changing
skies, which is the tree-lover's
full heritage.

The mortal who has never
enjoyed a speaking acquaint-
ance with some individual tree
is to be pitied; for such an ac-
quaintance, once established,
naturally ripens into a friendli-
ness that brings serene comfort

[ii]

Who would believe that a granite-gray column

could hold a store of sweetness!

TREES AT LEISURE

to the human heart, whatever
the heart of the tree may or
may not experience. To those
who know them, the trees, like
other friends, seem to have their
periods of reaching out for sym-
pathetic understanding. How
often this outreaching is met
with repulse will never be told;
for tree friends never reproach
us, — but wait with calm pa-
tience for us to grow into com-
prehension.

In winter, we are prone to
regard our trees as cold, bare,
and dreary; and we bid them
wait until they are again clothed
in verdure before we may accord
to them comradeship. How-
ever, it is during this winter
resting time that the tree stands
revealed to the uttermost, ready
to give its most intimate con-

[13]

The low, broad thorn-apple shows a fitting frame-
work for the great bridal bouquet which will
cover it next June.

TREES AT LEISURE

fidences to those who love it.
It is indeed a superficial ac-
quaintance that depends upon
the garb worn for half the year;
and to those who know them,
the trees display even more
individuality in the winter than
in the summer. The summer is
the tree's period of reticence,
when, behind its mysterious veil
of green, it is so busy with its
own life processes that it has
no time for confidences, and
may only now and then fling us
a friendly greeting.

The recognition of trees in
the season of winter is a matter
of experience and may not be
learned from a book. Often
the differences that distinguish
them are too subtle to be put
into words. However, some spe-
cies portray their individuality

115]

The straight-limbed bird cherry.

TREES AT LEISURE

in such a graphic manner that
the wayfarer, though a fool,
need not err therein. Such is
the elm that graces our meadows
and fields, where it marks the
sites of fences present and past.
At no other time of year is the
American elm more beautiful

than when it traces its flowing
lines against snow and gray
skies. Whether the tree be
young, slender, and svelte or
grown to full stature, — whether
it be vase- or fountain-shaped, —
there is in its dark twig-fringed
bole a grace shown in up-
ward expansion, which is con-
tinued in the uplift of spreading
branches and finds perfect ex-
pression in the final twigs that
droop as if in loving memory of
their summer burden of leaves,
in token of which the oriole's

[17]

The sumacs, like bronze candelabra, hold their

dark panicles aloft.

TREES AT LEISURE

nest is tenderly held in safe-
keeping.

In sharp contrast to the be-
nignant and inviting curves of
the elm is the self-centered out-
line of the isolated sugar maple.
Even this tree is more grace-
ful in winter than in summer.
It displays its many straight
branches, lifted skyward and
ending in finely-divided but well-
ordered sprays; while earlier,
it was merely an elongated green
period that served to punctuate
the summer landscape. Widely
different in habit is the great
maple of the woodland, whose
noble bole rises, a living pillar,
to the arches that uphold the
forest canopy. We do not need
to look up to its high branches
to know it; for its shining
gray color and a certain majesty

[19]

The black locust retains a scanty garment

of little rustling pods.

TREES AT LEISURE

of mien proclaim at once its
identity and its place as a peer
in the forest realm. Who would
believe that a granite-gray col-
umn could hold store of sweet-
ness which a few weeks later we
may have for the asking! The
maple, more than other trees,
seems to need to have its close-
fisted bushiness pruned away
by jealous neighbors to make it
great and fine and generous.
To those who think that in
winter a maple is simply a maple
we should like to point out in
contrast to the tree just men-
tioned, the graceful, smooth,
gray-barked red maple, that,
true to its name keeps its bit
of winter landscape warm with
its glow, each of its bud-laden

>

twigs a ruddy dreamer of scarlet
past and crimson future.

[21]

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T/^e Lombardy poplar, a spire of green
against summer horizons, is now a vague
wraith.

TREES AT LEISURE

But, to return to the field,
there are other tree tenants of
the safe fence corners that are
worth knowing: the low broad
thorn-apple, with its more or
less horizontal branches divid-
ing and subdividing into a
frenzy of twiglets, shows a fit-
ting framework for the great
bridal bouquet which will cover

next June; the straight-
limbed bird cherry with its
shining bark, perhaps in ragged
transverse rolls; and those shrub
cousins of the trees, the sumacs,
like bronze candelabra, holding
their dark pinacles aloft, black

sockets whence once blazed
crimson flame.

Many of the trees planted by
man for man's enjoyment give
as good returns in winter as in
summer: the honey locust rear-

[23]

The old apple tree is as picturesque as any

TREES AT LEISURE

ing its slender height protect
ingly above the homestead, or
above the memory of one, its
great twisted branches making
picturesque any scene, however
homely, its maze of twigs still
holding its large spirally rolled
pods, which will in due time
skate away over icy snowdrifts
and plant their seeds far from
the parent tree; the black locust,
less picturesque, seemingly con-
scious of its nakedness, retain-
ing a scanty garment of little
rustling pods, until spring shall
again bring to it its exquisitely
wrought leaf mantle; the horse-
chestnut, painting itself in broad
style against the pearly sky,
its sparse, bud-tipped, clumsy
twigs appearing like knobbed
antennae put forth to test the
safety of the neighborhood; the

[25]

The black willow appears as twins or triplets,
in close confab on borders of streams.

TREES AT LEISURE

tall, straight, cut-leaved birch
with its central column of white,
and white branches ascending
stark and stiff and then suddenly
breaking into dark fountains of
deliquescence ; the Lombardy
poplar, a spire of green against
summer horizons, now a vague
wraith through whose transpar-
ent form we can see the sky
and landscape beyond; and, as
picturesque as any, the old apple
tree, its great angularly twisted

branches bearing a forest of
aspiring shoots.

The stream borders give us
trees of strong individuality.
The willows, unwilling even in
summer to be taken for other
tree species, assert their pecu-
liarities quite as vigorously

■

in winter. The golden osier
displays its magnificent trunk

[27]

The little pussy willows cuddle contentedly

under their snow blanket.

TREES AT LEISURE

and giant limbs upholding a
mass of terminal shoots that
tinge with warm ocher the win-
ter landscape. The black wil-
low, having cast its sickle leaves
to the autumn winds, lifts itself
in twins or triplets, or even
larger families of sister trees,
that stand in close confab on
borders of murmuring streams;
while the little pussy willows
gather in neighborly groups close
to living brooks, where in sum-
mer they shade the darting
minnows and in winter cuddle
contentedly under their snow
blanket and listen to the con-
tented gurgling of the ice-bound
waters.

The sycamore loses nothing of
its effectiveness when it loses its
foliage. The dull yellow of the
trunk and the pale gray of the

[29]

The

sycamore is over fond of the reflections of its
blotched trunk and branches in the still pools of
streams.

TREES AT LEISURE

great undulating, serpent-like
branches, blotched with white,
show as distinctly against the
snow as they did against the
summer green; the very smooth-
ness of the few large limbs
makes us unprepared for the
way they break up into a mad-
ness of terminal branchlets, to
which still cling here and there a
button-ball not yet whipped off
its fibrous string. How different
the young trees, so slender and
shapely, and overfond of re-
flecting their graceful figures in
the still pools of streams! It
might seem that the stream

■

guards wear a uniform of khaki,
in evidence of which behold the
slender bole of the great-toothed
poplar and that of the quaking
aspen which has shaken off its
agitation with its leaves, and

[31]

The tamarack flaunts its jaundiced spire

against the sky.

TREES AT LEISURE

meets the winter winds with
serene courage; and likewise
clad is the Cottonwood, that
guardian of western rivers, on
which, though it be ragged and
unkempt, the traveler's eye
lingers lovingly.

Another water-loving tree,
which revels in swamps, is the
pepperidge ; extravagant in hori-
zontal branches and twigs when
young, it stands gaunt and bare
when old, its main trunk looking
like a decrepit mast with a few
dilapidated yardarms hanging
to it. The tamaracks are its
neighbors; in summer graceful
lacy cones, they now flaunt
their scant, jaundiced spires
against the blue sky, uncon-
scious of the sad picture they
make in their coniferally unnat-
ural nakedness.

[33]

The beech wears the crest of its nobility woven

into the hues of its firm smooth bark.

TREES AT LEISURE

In the forest depths in winter,
we trust more to the shape and
color of the bole and to the tex-
ture of the bark than to the
branches above for recognition
of old acquaintances. The beech
wears the crest of its nobility
woven into the hues of its
firm, smooth bark; — its lower
branches retain all winter many
of their leaves, russet now and
sere, whispering lonesomely to
the winds; and with its leaves
it retains its burrs, empty now
of nuts and hanging in constel-
lations, quenched and black
against the blue of the zenith.
Novices often confuse the trunk
of the beech with that of the
birch, for the very inadequate
reason that both may be trans-
versely striped with white. The
beech's stripes are woven into

[35]

The tatterdemalion yellow birch

TREES AT LEISURE

the texture of the firm fine-
grained bark and are as unlike
those of the tatterdemalion
birch as could well be imagined.
The white birch coquettes with
us with her untidy silken rib-
bons from the forest depths in a
manner which a self-respecting

beech would scorn; and she
is not the only one of her kind
that wears shining ribbons, al-
though we are less likely to
notice the darker colors of the
black and yellow birches.

In all the woodland there is
no more beautiful bark to be

■

found than that which pencils

■

the trunk of the white ash in
fine vertical lines and fades
away into smoothness on the
lower limbs. The ash branch-
lets, though of pleasing lines,
are few and coarse; those of the

[37]

In all the woodland there can be found no
more beautiful bark than that which pen-
cils in vertical lines the trunk of the
white ash.

TREES AT LEISURE

white ash give the effect of being
warped into terminal curves.
Contrast the bark of the white
ash with the rugged virile bark
of the hemlock and then turn
to the basswood's straight bole
and note the fine elongated net-
work which covers it and learn
to greet each as a friend well
known and well beloved!

The hornbeam, or blue beech,
ever tries to tie into a knot its
twisted slender branches; often
even the grain of the wood is
hard twisted, so that the close
bark shows as a loose spiral.
One wonders if it is because of
this vital writhing that the sap
which slowly oozes from the tree

-

in spring soon turns red as
blood. Very different in appear-
ance is her sister, the hop horn-
beam, whose slender trunk is

[39]

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The ash branchlets, though of pleasing lines

are few and coarse.

TREES AT LEISURE

covered with narrow flattened
scales that flake off untidily.

The oak cannot be spared
from the winter landscape. It is
only when the oak stands bared
like a runner for a race that we
realize wherein its supremacy
lies. We have made it a synonym
of staunchness and sturdiness,

<

but not until we see naked the
massive trunk and the strong
limbs bent and gnarled for
thrusting back the blasts, can
we understand why the oak is
staunch. However, there are
oaks and oaks, and each one
fights time and tempest in its
own peculiar armor and in its
own brave way. The red, the
scarlet, and the black oaks
show a certain ruggedness as of
knotted sinews in their boles,
and their dark gray bark, irregu-

[41]

A

••

The ragged, virile bark of the hemlock

TREES AT LEISURE

larly furrowed, changes into flat
planes above and smooths out
into a soft, dark gray covering
on the vigorous though twisted
upper branches. The bark of
the white oak is pale gray,
divided by shallow fissures into
elongated scales, yet withal a
dignified dress for a noble tree.
To one who is fortunate enough
to have had a Quaker grand-
father, the white oak will bring
a vision of him arrayed in his
First Day garb. However, there

are vast differences in the white
oaks of America, as we keenly

realize if we compare the con-
servative white oak of the East
with its erratic picturesque
sister of the Pacific Coast, "pic-
turesqueness gone mad," as de-
scribed by an artist trying to
sketch it.

[43]

It is only when the oak stands bared like a runner
for the race that we realize wherein its supremacy
lies.

TREES AT LEISURE

The hickories resemble the
oaks except that they are more
refined and less virile; their
limbs are shorter and grace is
gained as strength is lost. Each
species asserts an unmistakable
individuality. The shagbark
vaunts the superfluity of its rai-
ment; the pignut lifts a narrow
oblong head, its lower branches
gnarled and drooping; less
drooping are the lower branches
of the mockernut and much
more rounded its outline, while
the bitternut bole divides into
several large branches that

spread and form a broad head.
Those cousins of the hickories,
the black walnut and the butter-
nut, attract our attention by
their sparse rather coarse ter-
minal twigs. The wide flattened
ridges of its deeply furrowed

[45]

The shagbark hickory vaunts the superfluity of

its raiment.

TREES AT LEISURE

bark distinguish the butternut
and often suggest the long
smooth slats that hold the chest-
nut bole in tight embrace.

No winter scene is perfect
without the evergreens; al-
though these, until dead, never
display to our curious eyes the
history of their struggles for
life, as written on their naked
branches; yet to them alone
among trees has a voice been
given. The poet has often been
a more sensitive listener than
seer in the natural world, and
from the earliest times he has
resung for his fellow-men the
mysterious song of the pine.

Although our evergreens re-
tain their working garb, yet
they are trees of fine leisure

■

during the months of frost
and ice; and whether they lift

[47]

That cousin of the hickories, the butternut

TREES AT LEISURE

their mighty heads singly above
the forest level or group them-
selves in green -black masses,
they make strong the composi-
tion of the winter picture.
Nothing brings out the per-
spective of the snow-covered
hills like a clump of great hem-
locks in the foreground; and the
tassels of the pine are never
so beautiful as when tossed in
defiance against the stormy win-
ter skv. Brave tree folk are
these conifers of ours, whether
their span of life extends over
three centuries, like our pines,
or twenty, like the redwoods.
They give us a wide sense of
the earth as an abiding-place.

On some winter mornings
even the most careless of mortals
must pay admiring tribute to
the trees, for again are they

[49]

The tassels of the pine are never so beautiful
as when tossed in defiance against the
stormy, winter sky.

TREES AT LEISURE

clad, this time in a glittering
raiment of soft snow. Such a
day is the apotheosis of winter,
and one must needs go into the
still forest and worship. The
stillness is commensurate with
the whiteness. The trees them-
selves seem conscious of it, and

4

rebuff the iconoclast breeze with
their slowly and silently moving
branches. How differently the
same forest meets the wind a
few days later when a storm
is brewing! Then the stiff

branches with their twig-sprays
tear the howling intruder into
whistling shreds, until there is an
all-pervading roar that is unlike
any other of nature's sounds.
It might well be compared to
the surf breaking on a rocky

shore, if it were not that
seems overwhelming instead of

151]

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The hemlock under its glittering burden of soft snow.

TREES AT LEISURE

restless, conquering instead of
unceasing, sentient instead of
unaware.

February is of the winter
months the impressionist, the
colorist. In December the forest
masses on the hills were brown
or gray; now they are painted
in warm purple and the same
royal color is to be seen in the
shadows of the snowy valleys
through a veil of sapphire haze
that brings sky and forest and
white hills into restful unity.
This slowly increasing richness
of color of the late winter in our
northern landscapes is not often
appreciated. Long before the
frost leaves the ground and the
snow slinks away from the hill-
sides, the impulse of the warm-
ing sun is caught in bark and
buds. It is this warm tint of

[53]

&

<(<&:■

'.'"'■■ ■•':■■■' .,..."■

-

On some winter mornings, the most careless of
mortals must pay admiring tribute to the
trees.

TREES AT LEISURE

the forest in February that

brings to the heart the first

subtle prescience of spring, even

before the chickadee feels it

and makes the still woods echo

with his sweet prophesying

"phoebe" song.

Happy is he who keeps his

picture gallery always with him ;

his life is full of joy! To each
of us is given a sky which many

times a day is painted anew for
our delectation; and it is never
more perfect than when in win-
ter it is a background against
which the trees are etched.
Whether the horizon be crimson
with the sunrise, or gold with
the sunset; whether it displays
the blue of the turquoise up-

■

lifted into the color of the rose
on snowy mornings, or glows
with the amethystine splendor

[55]

TREES AT LEISURE

of afternoons or the beryl tints
of evening; the bare branches

strongly outlined against it in
harmonious contrast complete
the color chord; — with infi-
nitely varying hues the trees
there illuminate, and with ex-
quisite and intricate writing the
trees there sign, the diplomas of
those whom they have educated.

OEORGE BANTA PUBLISHING COMPANY

V

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THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE

STAMPED BELOW

RENEWED BOOKS ARE SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE

RECALL

LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, DAVIS

Book Slip-50m-12,'64(F772s4)458

•

INDER

>, N. V.
, Calif.

363685

Comstock

}

A.B.

QKU77
C6

Trees at leisure

LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA

DAVIS

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