Showing posts with label Use Construction 11-15. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Use Construction 11-15. Show all posts
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Tree Rings
Weather: The remnants of hurricane Simon hobbled across the skies, trapping smoke from a controlled burn on Wednesday, before leaving some water Thursday and Friday. The smoke, which drifted south from 3,700 burning acres between Vallecitos and El Rito, enveloped the area in a white bubble that reached the ground by mid-morning.
What’s blooming in the area: Silver lace vine, datura, morning glories, sweet pea, Russian sage, red amaranth, zinnias from new seeds and reseeds, African marigolds from seed, Maximilian sunflowers, pampas grass.
Morning temperatures fell into the high 30s early in the week. Trees have responded by draining their chlorophyll. Cottonwoods are looking chartreuse, the big weeping willow shows some yellow, the exotic trees with fine leaves are yellower still. My apricot is beginning to reveal its orange.
Beyond the walls and fences: Pink and white bindweed, goat’s head, stickleaf, Queen Anne’s lace, chamisa, snakeweed broom, broom senecio, áñil del muerto, golden hairy and purple asters.
In my yard: Large-flowered soapwort, hollyhocks, winecup mallow, catmint, calamintha, David phlox, Mexican hat, black-eyed Susan, chocolate flower, blanket flower, anthemis, coreopsis, chrysanthemum, white yarrow.
Bedding plants: Blue salvia, French marigold.
Seeds: Reseeded Sensation cosmos from last year’s plants, yellow cosmos.
Animal sightings: Geckos, small birds, grasshoppers, large and small black ants.
Weekly update: Hopi history is retold as a series of migrations. People look out over local ruins and say, once a clan lived there, now they live here. Once we lived below, and now we are here. Once the kachinas lived with us, now they are below.
It is not the progressive history of Anglos. There is no once I was poor, now I am rich, no once I was damned, now I am saved. There’s no odor of feudalism binding individuals to specific places.
Elsie Clews Parsons said the Hopi narrative was, simply, a record that extended to plants, animals, even specific Kachinas. They’re all something encountered on a journey. If there’s a moral, it’s an inbred willingness to try new things, to experiment.
In the 1920s, Andrew Ellicott Douglass looked at tree rings in the beams of ruins to determine habitation dates for Mesa Verde, Canyon de Chelly and Pueblo Bonito. By chance, he discovered a period of drought between 1276 and 1299. He believed that dry period explained why people had abandoned the upper San Juan where the modern states of Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah abut.
Historians place the drought in the Little Ice Age that began in Europe in 1258. The year of famine followed massive crop failures. Thousands died in London.
Recently, scientists have suggested the event that triggered the climatic change was the eruption of Mount Rinjani on the island of Lombok in Indonesia in 1257. They had learned the destructive possibilities of volcanic ash from Krakatoa. When it flared in Indonesia in 1883, cattle died on the open range in a winter so severe, the cattle industry in this country had to be reorganized.
A team at the National Center for Atmospheric Research had already established that ice cores from Iceland showed the types of changes between 1275 and 1300 that would have been produced by such volcanic activity. Franck Lavigne’s group was looking for the event predicted by Gifford Miller’s team.
When the climate changed in the late 1200s, people either adapted like the Inuit and Eskimos, migrated like the Navajo, or died out like the Norse in Greenland. Groups fled the Anasazi villages. Some moved east to the Río Grande, others went south.
Anthropologists aren’t so sure drought was the reason people left. Some argue depredations by the aggressive Navajo, Apache and Ute were the cause. They note the Hopi originally lived in small, isolated settlements along the base of Black Mesa. Its dense sandstone trapped water from the Upper Cretaceous that seeps in permanent springs.
In the early 1300s, the original settlers, who still had water, joined the refuges on defendable mesas where they crowded into large communities in buildings of several stories. The material responses to crisis are seen as more telling than theoretical causes.
Historians had the same reaction when confronted with climate data from Europe. They are more inclined to see human actions resulting from the actions of other humans than from some natural force.
In 2011, a team at the Swiss Federal Institute for Forest, Snow and Landscape Research published the results of its study of 9,000 tree rings for 2,500 years in central Europe. They showed the Roman Empire thrived during a period of climatic stability, but that years of instability between 250 and 600 coincided with the Empire’s collapse.
Even a sudden, permanent change would have been easier to accept than the conditions suggested by Ulf Büntgen’s colleagues. Barbarians at the gates or Christians within are easier to understand than a climate that changed every few years so farmers could never adapt. When seeds that worked one summer failed the next, it was difficult to ship agricultural surpluses to Rome.
Our view of current events and history as the actions of individuals, often violent deeds by abnormal humans in failed or rogue states, makes it hard to accept some external factor like rain could be more important. Commentators attribute Sudan’s civil war to lust for oil. They describe John Garang de Mabior as a leader who recognized the dangers of Islam. Spreading Saharan drought is dismissed as propaganda from scientists bent on turning any current event into support for their dubious agenda.
We believe our advances in technology have insulated us from climate. If crops fail in Ukraine, wheat is exported from Kansas. If fish stocks are depleted on the Grand Banks, cattle ranches are developed on the borders of the Amazon.
Travelers were more than irate in 2010 when a relatively small volcanic eruption in Iceland closed airports in 20 European countries. Businessmen couldn’t understand why ash was worse than snow that was cleared with deicers. They kept thinking there was some mid-level bureaucrat who should be fired for negligence.
Our belief in human’s ability to see, record and analyze makes dairies and autobiographies more comfortable sources for historians than passive records of trees.
Notes:
Büntgen, Ulf, et alia. "2500 Years of European Climate Variability and Human Susceptibility," Science 331:578-582:2011.
Douglass, A. E. "Dating Our Prehistoric Ruins: How Growth Rings in Timbers Aid in Establishing the Relative Ages in Ruined Pueblos of the Southwest," Natural History, 1921.
_____. "The secret of the Southwest Solved by Talkative Tree Rings," National Geographic Magazine 56: 736-770:1929.
Lavigne, Franck, et alia. "Source of the Great a.d. 1257 Mystery Eruption Unveiled, Samalas Volcano, Rinjani Volcanic Complex, Indonesia," National Academy of Science Proceedings, 2013.
Miller, Gifford H., et alia. "Abrupt Onset of the Little Ice Age Triggered by Volcanism and Sustained by Sea-Ice/Ocean Feedbacks," Geophysical Research Letters, 2012.
Parsons, Elise Clews. Pueblo Indian Religion, vol 1,1939.
Photographs: Tree rings are consistent within species. Büntgen’s team used oak from lowland parts of France and Germany to reconstruct spring rains. It used stone pine and larch from the Austrian Alps for summer temperatures.
1. Peach tree where limb was cut in 2013.
2. Russian olive cut down in 2013.
3. Remains of porch rafter, installed in 1994. Wood purchased from Conley Sawmill in Arroyo Seco, wood not identified on receipt, but assumed to be local.
4. When a tree is felled, the cut is horizontal across the girth; the rings are circular. Mazzard cherry cut down in 2013.
5. When a felled tree is turned into lumber, the trunk is sliced vertically; the rings become the long lines of the grain. Cherry wood in table, probably late 1800s; varnish over stain.
6. Soft pine floor in house probably built during World War I. When the wood dries, the rings separate and splinter off. Varnish over cherry stain with wood filler.
7. Red oak floor installed in 1994. The hardwood does not splinter or easily gouge; varnish only.
8. Cedar paneling purchased in 1994. The wood is not coated when fumes from the drying oils are desired to keep away insects.
9. Southern yellow pine post purchased in 2012. Yellow pine may be one of four species. Most often it is loblolly pine grown in plantations on the Atlantic coastal plain from Maryland to Texas. Rainfall encourages fast growth so the rings are much wider than those in #3. Pressure treated with copper azole to slow aging and deter insects.
Sunday, July 06, 2014
Felling Trees
Weather: Rain twice this week while Douglas weakened off the western coast of México.
What’s blooming in the area: Catalpa, Dr Huey and hybrid roses, yellow potentilla, silver lace vine, lilies, daylily, hollyhock, datura, bouncing Bess, pink evening primrose, alfalfa, sweet pea, yellow yarrow.
Beyond the walls and fences: Tamarix, tumble mustard, velvetweed, purple mat flower, pink and white bindweed, showy milkweed, Hopi tea, goat’s beard, plains paper flowers.
In my yard, looking east: Maltese cross, Bath pinks, snow-in-summer, Jupiter’s beard, baby’s breath, winecup mallow, sidalcea, coral bell.
Looking south: Betty Prior, Fairy and rugosa roses.
Looking west: Johnson’s Blue geranium, catmint, blue flax, white mullein, Shasta daisy.
Looking north: Coral beard tongue, butterfly milkweed, golden spur columbine, Mexican hat, black-eyed Susan, chocolate flower, blanket flower, coreopsis.
In the open, along the drive: California poppy, larkspur, white yarrow.
Bedding plants: Pansies, snapdragon, sweet alyssum, blue salvia, moss rose, French marigold.
Animal sightings: Rabbit, geckos, small birds, grasshoppers, small black ants, wasps.
Weekly update: Removing dead cottonwoods is difficult and necessary. The roots are shallow, and the trees prone to blow over, crushing whatever is in their path.
It’s also expensive. When I called a local tree cutting firm several years ago about removing a six-inch diameter black locust, the person answering the phone said the minimum cost was $500. Imagine the multiplier for a six-foot bole.
It was easier a hundred years ago.
Techniques haven’t changed much. When I was a child, I learned the basics, probably from a camp craft book. You made a notch on the side you wanted it to fall. You made another cut on the opposite side, and got out of the way.
It sounded easy. How-to videos tell you the same today. Chain saw advertisements reinforce the belief anyone can do it.
And, in the past, anyone could.
What has changed isn’t the tools or techniques, it’s the intimacy that comes from dependence. In the eons when people depended on wood for heat and cooking fuel, children learned the ways of trees. Picking the path and making the notch required some knowledge of the way trees behaved. It wasn’t simple geometry.
Then, people removed trees near their homes, then went farther afield for fire wood. There was little danger in felling trees, if one stayed out of their path.
Today, many large cottonwoods live in captivity. With changing land values, large tracts have been subdivided and newer houses built close to old trees. When you pass a commercial tree cutter, it has a man lift so men can remove branches from the top, then cut the trunk in small segments.
Recently, someone in the village has been cutting down a cottonwood. The road is narrow and the work hidden behind a fence. From what little I could see, I believe they hired a lift and tried to follow the same procedure.
I think a piece fell on a branch of an apple tree. It may only have been a branch, not a limb. The apple limb broke and rolled the cottonwood down its slope onto a coyote fence.
I don’t know if it reached into the road. By the time I saw it it had been cut back. Cascading objects follow the laws of physics.
The second problem when you fell a cottonwood is what do you do with it. The uses for wood are limited. Local builders use logs for vigas and decorative posts, small wood for latillas. They buy everything else.
A hundred years ago saw mills existed to convert stumps to boards. Commercial operations in Michigan, where I grew up, had three stages. In lumber camps, trees were cut and branches removed. Stripped logs were moved by small carts with high axils, big wheels, which were pulled by animals.
The processed logs were hauled to rail sidings where they were loaded onto cars that took them to a mill. Roy Dodge says one operation sent 20 loads an hour. The rail lines were temporary narrow gauge with engines built especially for the work in Lima, Ohio.
Sawmills were located near transportation. In Michigan, they were on one of the Great Lakes where ships would take boards to market cheaply. Elsewhere, rivers were used for the first journey, railroads for the second.
People who burn wood today are choosey. Even my neighbors, who depend of wood stoves, know, if worse comes to worse, they can use an electric space heater. Both men are in their late 70s, too old to go into the forest to fell trees on their own. They have wood delivered. One has it delivered to size, and his son and grandson stack it. The other buys small logs which he splits with an axe as he needs them.
A hundred years ago, men followed a multi-year cycle. They cut wood, then let it dry for several years before they burned it. Each year they created a new pile, and used the oldest.
Now, the labor involved in converting a large cottonwood into fire wood is greater than the price one can charge. Many have heard the wood burns hot and fast, and, if it’s not cured properly, smells. Santa Fé buyers are snobs who skim the surface of local folk life. They want the image without the inconvenience. They only want the best.
Commercial tree cutters simply shred whatever they cut. When I had a cherry taken down, I asked if they were able to sell the wood. The answer was no. A few years ago they could sell some to a woodworker who made spoons, but it hadn’t heard from him in a while. The cherry went the way of all other trees, turned into mulch.
I assume there is a limit to the capacity of portable chippers. Men tend to leave the large boles. Without the top wood, they’re no longer as likely to blow over. If they do, they’re shorter. I have no idea why anyone would want the standing remains, unless the price was prohibitive or the tree cutter simply refused to remove it because it was too large to chip.
One stumbles on the remains everywhere.
Things were different a hundred years ago. Logging has always been dangerous, but then there was the respect that arises from a worthy challenger. Men had themselves photographed with their largest trees. The pictures are a bit like those of fishermen. At one level, they show humans conquering nature. However, the fish or tree, not the humans is in the foreground. Man is always dwarfed.
Notes:
Dodge, R. L. Michigan Ghost Towns, 3 volumes (1970, 1971, 1973).
US Department of Labor, Bureau of Labor Statistics. In 2012, 65 died in the logging industry; the injury rate was 4.3 per hundred employees. The rates were much higher a hundred years ago, especially in the mills. Fire was also a more serious hazard then.
Photographs: Historic photographs from The Disston Crucible, February 1917; Disston manufactured the band saw blades used in mills.
1. Dead cottonwood in a stand by the Rio Grande; everything useful has been stripped, and the large bole left to decay. 13 February 2012.
2. Cottonwood branch fell across a wire fence near the road last fall. The original house is set far back from the road where large cottonwoods grow. The road frontage was platted and houses built. The land in back was kept for possible farm use. This looks like the remains of a dead tree left uncut. 2 November 2013.
3. Damaged apple tree. You can see the branch in front that’s been cut and the one farther back that’s been ripped from the trunk. 5 July 2014.
4. Cottonwood branch on the coyote fence at the edge of the village road. 15 June 2014.
5. The cottonwood log was 10' long and 6' across at the small end. The Baker Lumber Company of Turrell, Arkansas, cut 3,300 board feet.
6. Cottonwood trunk left along an acequia, 26 March 2014.
7. Cottonwood trunk left near the river, 22 May 2012.
8. One reason people climbed onto big trees for photographs was to show the scale.
9. Cottonwood base left along the river, Cundiyo, 14 February 1912. Anything useful has been removed.
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