Stephen Maier
17 October 2009
This morning, Saturday, October 17, 2009, I visited the West Clark Woods with a friend. I wanted to share the beauty I have been hoarding to myself within these grounds with someone else; therefore, I asked my roommate if he wanted to join me in nature. He accepted my invitation and we entered at 11:15 a.m. on this clear, 40°F morning.
Our focus this morning was on touch and textures in nature and we wasted no time feeling everything in sight. We picked up sticks, rocks, downed trees, leaves, and anything else in sight. The sticks were dry and lifeless, which was expected, considering they were broken branches on the ground. The rocks were as cold as ice. I picked one up and juggled it in my hands before I had to drop it due to its frigidity. The tree trunks on the ground were saturated with water leading me to believe that some form of heavy moisture soaked this wood. What could be responsible since it hadn’t rained in two days? Perhaps the rain was so forceful all week that the wood was drenched and did not have sufficient time to dry out. Or maybe the dew, which is now turning to frost, seeped into the wood and never evaporated. Complicating my suppositions is the canopy situation. The canopy overhead has thinned with time allowing more sunlight to reach the wood and dry it out, leading me to believe the dampness must be from recent moisture, not the rain showers. However, the lack of canopy also facilitates the penetration of precipitation into the forest, which coaxes me into thinking that the rain may have reached the wood without resistance, therefore saturating it with water that cannot be released over two days. I can’t be sure of really happened.
As soon as we stepped foot in the woods, we noticed the carpet of leaves on the forest floor. If I hadn’t been here before, I would not have been able to tell you what the ground looked like. The birch trees were almost completely leafless. Approximately 75% of all the deciduous trees’ leaves had been shed and created a colorful layer on top of the ground. I picked up a fallen leaf and then extracted a living leaf from a nearby tree of the same species to compare the two. Though the leaves maintain the same shape, their differences are noticeable. The fallen leaf is brownish-orange. It is paper-like in texture and has no friction when I run my fingers along it. On the contrary, the living leaf is green and has prominent veins that can be easily felt. It also has a moist, oil-like texture. Though the two leaves look the same, excluding color, they are very different when inspected with touch.
Our analysis of texture reached its climax when my roommate discovered a shedding paper birch tree. Together we scrutinized the finding. The tree was twenty-five feet tall and had the white, paper-like bark, characteristic of paper birches, on its upper half. Its lower half was intriguing. There was a distinct line where the bark ended and it became a layer of wood that surrounded the trunk. Half of this layer was a dark brown color and the other half was divided between a fiery red color and a saffron color. At the bottom of the tree, the trunk was exposed which helped us determine that the middle layer was neither bark nor tree trunk. Upon this finding, my roommate detached the middle layer from the trunk. He removed it in one piece in shell-like form. We were both in awe. We felt as if we were disassembling a tree, deforming nature. It was a fascinating feeling.
But avoiding our sentiment, the red portion of this layer was soaked while the saffron part was dry. I was curious of two things at this point. Why is some of this layer wet and some of it dry? And why is it divided into several different colors? I had, and still have, no credible speculation for either question. Perhaps the middle layer was only attached to the tree at the dark brown end and the tree was still providing moisture to it, but the water did not travel throughout the entire layer of wood and left half of it dry. But that doesn’t consider an explanation for the color. I am eager to consult someone of higher knowledge to understand what is occurring on this birch.