We're searching Scotlands Highlands to find and bring back a rare habitat, Mountain Birch.
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MOSSY EARTH MEMBERSHIP
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💪 OUR PARTNERS IN THIS VIDEO
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Reforesting Scotland: https://reforestingscotland.org/
⏱️TIMESTAMPS⏱️
00:00 Intro
00:40 Adventure begins!
02:18 What is Mountain Birch?
03:31 Why is Mountain Birch Missing?
04:44 What Scotland could look like!
06:05 What we're doing
07:12 Adventure continues...
09:27 Gus' channel?
09:55 To the nursery
🔎 ABOUT THIS PROJECT
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Montane woodland is a virtually extinct habitat in Scotland. Of the 5.1% of native forests in the Scottish Highlands, only a mere 4% exists above altitudes of 400 metres. Although important restoration schemes are working to restore Caledonian pine forest, temperate rainforests and montane willow scrub, a missing piece of the landscape is largely, if not completely neglected - mountain birch woodland. In what should be a transitional zone between lower and higher mountain woodlands, high-altitude adapted species like mountain birch have all but disappeared, leaving a gap in this ecological niche. This Mountain Birch Project (MBP), led by Reforesting Scotland, aims to progress efforts to reinstate mountain birch woodland in Scotland. It will involve locating remaining fragments, mapping their distribution and seed collection and propagation, as well as the establishment of a seed orchard.
Find out more about this project here: https://www.mossy.earth/projects/the-...
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Birches
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust---
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
(Now am I free to be poetical?)
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows---
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
Robert Frost, Mountain Interval (1916), The Poetry of Robert Frost: The Collected Poems, ed. Edward Connery Lathem (Henry Holt and Company, 2002)
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Did you experience the Best Mountain Cycling?
Riding a bike takes you on a flexion where you may discover new places and have fun while exploring a variety of landscapes and hidden jewels.
read more... https://coupons4u.co.uk/2024/01/04/best-cheapest-electric-bike-in-uk/
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Musket Shot Springs Scenic Overlook, UT (No. 1)
Why is This Place Named Musket Shot Springs?
For six months back in 1776, two Franciscan monks named Fray Francisco Altnasio Dominguez and Fray Silvestre Velez de Escalante led a party of ten men through this part of western Colorado and eastern Utah. What they were looking for was a new route to the Spanish missions in California. As they approached the Utah border, they killed a lone bison and prepared the meat while resting for a day.
From the Diary of Father Escalante
September 13, 1776
"We continued for a quarter of a league in the same direction along a well-beaten path near which, toward the south, two copious springs of the finest water rise, a musket shot apart from each other, which we named Las Fuentes de Santa Clara (meaning this is really great water).
Source
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Beautiful illustration of leaves from Catskill Mountain trees - these can be found on the Mountain Top Arboretum https://www.mtarboretum.org/native-trees-gallery
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mfw i realise I picked the build palette of a woodland mansion XD
also new storage room! guys I dig A LOT you don't even know. and now that i have mending on all my tools and armour (aside from my hat), i'll go set up one of the zombie spawners as an xp farm and switch the game to easy bc while breaking skulk for xp is fun, it's not as fun as a spawner farm, so. that's tomorrow's job, as well as moving all my stuff down here lol. :D
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