The Forest is Still Vibrant and Alive in Winter, Trombatore Trail

Moss in the Morning Light, Trombatore Trail

Trombatore Trail is a new favorite in the Hickory Nut Gorge, since it always seems colorful and alive no matter what the season. In the spring and summer there are lots of wildflowers, but even in winter the plentiful moss in the shaded areas makes the forest floor come alive.

Growing Together

One thing that trees seem to understand better than humans is that we all coexist together on this earth. When I saw this cluster of trees with conjoined roots, the wonderful book by Peter Wohlleben, The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate–Discoveries from a Secret World. When I first read that book, I was living in Micanopy, Florida on an acre and a half of land with several 250-300 year-old live oak trees, pines, and palm trees, as well as azaleas and bamboo. I used to take the book out in my yard and study the trees while I read. I’d notice how some grew together and formed one trunk, even different species, and shared resources, or how their branches connected at the canopy level, or how sometimes one tree would dominate in the struggle to reach the sun and the non dominant one would lean away, yet the trees always managed to share and work together even if they got a bit pushy at times. I wondered how these trees came to grow together and what fungi were lying dormant under the leaves ready to help them acquire additional nutrients if the need should arise. If I were just to look at this cluster of trees and dead leaves and think everything was dormant due to the season, I would miss all the complex interactions that are still occurring. When i was doing a residency at High Cove, I met a woman walking in the forest with a recorder. She told me when she started her project she thought winter would be a pretty boring season, but she amazed to discover trees make sounds in the winter too. We just need to slow down and look more closely and listen, especially in more subtle and muted times. This opportunity is one of the gifts winter gives us.

Moss Covered Tree, Trombatore Trail

Moss and lichen and algae all live on trees and are generally not harmful, since they get their nutrients from sunlight and water instead of feeding on the trees themselves. The location where this tree was growing was particularly shaded and the conditions allowed for the moss to grow in a thick carpet-like layer. I couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t making it difficult for the tree to breathe through it’s bark and causing stress. Trees do in fact take in oxygen and give off carbon dioxide through their bark, which functions very much like human skin. When I got home, I looked up whether it could ever be a problem and learned that on rare occasions it can cause bark rot if the moss retains too much water. Generally it is not problematic and moss and trees have been coexisting for millions of years. Hopefully, this tree will continue to thrive, because the moss looks magnificent following the contours of its trunk.

Fungi Among the Roots of a Tree

The fungi among the roots of this tree festooned with moss and algae and lichen was quite remarkable. This polypore had a fossil-like appearance, suggesting it has been coexisting with this tree for quite some time. We too could coexist with each other and not drive ourselves to extinction if we recognize we have to focus on establishing mutually beneficial relationships. (Unfortunately, I forgot to look up and see what kind of tree this was, because I was so taken with the fungi.)

Sometimes Growth Requires a Sharp Turn

Everywhere I looked, there seemed to be something unusual to notice. This tree had obviously started growing in one direction and then made a sharp turn. I didn’t see any very large trees nearby, or any fallen ones, that might have been pushing it out of the way, but perhaps the entire canopy was so choked that it knew exactly where it had to go to find the light. Looking at it made me realize that sometimes we too have to make drastic changes in our lives to find the healthiest environments or relationships. Our life is also a dance towards and away from all we coexist with in order to find the optimal level of interconnection and mutual support.

Light Dancing Among the Treetops, Trombatore Trail

There are so many trees in this cove and when I looked up there was barely a gap in the canopy. When the leaves are present for half the year it is even more shaded, which accounts for the proliferation of moss.

Light Breaking Through the Trees, Trombatore Trail

While I was studying these rocks, the sun suddenly broke through the trees and created a huge starburst that was visible to my naked eye in a very dramatic way. Suddenly I could feel just how much the forest welcomed its arrival and came to life as its rays expanded in all directions. Though trees blocked its full force, its appearance was even more magical.

Stream on the Trombatore Trail

This area is part of the Lake Lure Watershed and includes this beautiful clear stream with mossy rocks and logs. Small streams like this make up most of the country’s water and are critical for the health of our rivers and other waterbodies. This is why it is unfortunate that the Trump administration removed Federal protection from streams and wetlands. Hopefully, this will be reversed under the next administration.

All Tangled

As I climbed higher, there were more and more vines and branches jumbled together. It felt so different and claustrophobic, but I knew that I would soon arrive on the grassy summit. I stopped and admired the chaotic confusion before me and how so much still remained standing despite the mayhem. Everything seemed to be pushed and pulled and interconnected in a systematically random way that had achieved some weird balance that could all come crashing to the ground if one branch was removed or a strategic vine was severed.

The Delicate Dormancy of Trees in Winter

The summit was beautiful, with lots of sunshine and fresh air. I decided to walk in the direction of the old cow pen and sit by this beautiful tree with its curvilinear, symmetrically balanced branches. i always love how the structure of a tree becomes more apparent when it’s bare. It becomes more gestural and rhythmic.

Trombatore Summit in Winter

In summer it is often difficult to walk around here, since the grasses are so thick and tall. It was interesting to see the vegetation up close, even though it was browned out and appeared brittle and paper thin. There was a delicacy in this dormant state that I never fully appreciated before. Perhaps I responded this way to a state of being that I might have overlooked in another year because I, and so many of us, have been dormant and waiting since March for a time when it will be safe to grow and flourish in the world again. It has now been nine months since my period of relative isolation began. I gave birth to three children, so I have measured time this way before. Though I have no baby to show, and the period of dormancy may continue for a while longer, I do feel it has given me the time to go within and see with new eyes, My relationship with nature has deepened too, because I often see reflected in the environment the struggles I and we as a society are experiencing as well as ways for us to come together again. I have become a better listener to the ways in which nature speaks to us.