A Tree Grows

Several winters ago I was taking a walk in the cold early morning along a road near the local dog park and happened to see this little tree rising above the packed snow. Why had I never noticed this before?

Spruce, Feb. 1, 2018 (Margo D. Beller)

I looked at it as closely as I could because it was up a little hill and I didn't trust my footing on the snow. It is most definitely a conifer, a spruce from the way it is holding out its branches. It was getting lots of light thanks to the taller oaks having lost their leaves. Somehow the deer had not browsed it to nubs. Deer, as a rule, don't browse spruce trees because their leaves - the needles - are hard and prickly compared with the softer leaves of a yew or an arborvitae, something I know from painful experience.

But when a tree is small, a deer will taste the leaves and see if it is to its liking. That is why when we bought and planted Spruce Bringsgreen 10 years ago, I put in fence posts and strung deer netting around the little tree for the winter. I did it only the one time because Spruce, like all blue spruces, has proven to be a quick grower. It is now over 15 feet tall and its leaves are hard and sharp. The deer have left it alone.

This little tree is not a blue spruce, I think, but it is very much alive and growing thanks to taking advantage of its location on the top of a small hill.

Later that year, weeds surrounded the small spruce, obscuring it. I would not have seen it had I not known it was there. Thick stands of the invasive Japanese knotweed grew along the road in front of that hill, making it hard for a deer to get up there even if it was so inclined. Besides, with all the barking dogs at the dog park most deer, I've found, keep to the other end of the road where there are more open fields and, in summer, tall grass for browsing or bedding down on.

Down the road are much taller spruces, several of which were destroyed by Hurricane Sandy in 2012. Somehow a seed got blown or carried up the road by a squirrel or chipmunk, was planted and then left alone, allowing a tree to come up and replace at least one of those that fell.

There are so many seeds floating around us during the warmer months. This is how plants perpetuate themselves. Sometimes they put out fruits eaten by birds or rodents who either plant them as droppings or put them in the ground to store for the coming winter. Some seeds, like those of ragweed, make us sneeze. Some seeds blow into places where they manage to grow where least expected. Early on in our ownership of our house, we had many more apple trees and many more apples eaten by squirrels and deer. Several times I had to dig up apple tree seedlings from another part of the yard. Now that we only have the one tree whose apples I use, we have not had any seedlings in years. But I'm still vigilant.

In the woods, seeds fall and, if they are in an area where light comes in because of a gap in the taller trees, they may grow, presuming they are left alone and get enough moisture.

Every tree puts out hundreds of seeds every year because not very many will be lucky enough to  germinate.

This little tree, however, managed to be planted, left alone and given the right conditions to grow. It is a survivor, which is why I celebrate it. I hope to see it grow as tall as its parent.