Essay for November

By November, trees have once again finished the cycle of leaf growth and shedding, leaving them stark again, to display their skeletal branches against winter skies. There can be as many as 200,000 leaves (two tons) lost from a large maple tree, but there is still living tissue remaining after they have fallen. Between the bark and the wood, a persistent thin elongate branching cone of delicate tissue provides growth in diameter. That is why bark and wood are fairly easily separated. In addition, inner bark and outer wood are also composed of living tissue.

But much of the total mass of a tree, the inner wood and the outer bark, is material that once was living, but now is dead. This forms the skeleton of the tree which supports its own weight and flexibly resists the enormous force of the wind which in summer especially presses upon the considerable surface area of its leaves and branches.

Trees, by their enormous size in comparison with ourselves, inspire awe and in former times, worship. Many kinds of trees live longer than we do, a few for many centuries. Some individual trees, known by our grandparents, will be known by our grandchildren. They survive defoliation by insects, fungal and viral infections, fire, and they heal after physical injury. Trees serve us as fuel, as building material, as the raw material of paper, and they give us fruit and nuts to eat. Several of our medications came initially from trees, though some now are synthesized (aspirin from willows, a cancer drug from yews).

When a forest tree dies and falls to the ground, it is food and shelter for a long succession of creatures until finally there remains only a barely detectable elongate mound on the forest floor.