For the ninth day of my Winter haiku series, a lovely spruce I sheltered beneath the other week.
They stand raising boughs
Undaunted and proud towards
Skies of winter storms.
Photograph and poem © Ælfhild Astrædottir 2022
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New spruce buds under ultraviolet light.
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orange slime myxomycetes, unable to exactly ID this species. Found on decaying Sitka spruce limbs.
first two images composed of 150 images stacked
Big Lagoon, California
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Schloss Lembeck
Dorsten, Germany
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For as much as I love snow—and as indescribably beauitful snow-cloaked trees are—these wet, heavy snowfalls can be so damaging. The original part of our house was built in the mid-1800s, and a semi-circle of Norway Maples was planted nearby, likely soon after. Their average lifespan is 150 years...and sadly, two have recently died. The snow brought down some large limbs on others—we're hoping they'll survive the loss. Our black walnut trees may be even older, their lifespan can surpass 250 yrs. Altho' persimmon trees have a much shorter lifespan—an average of just 60 yrs.—the 5th largest known one (DCNR confirmed) in Pennsylvania is on our little farm. Every substantial snowfall brings a mix of excitement, and worry for these awesome old trees.
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Awake, awake, dear merciful morning I am awake // Part 9
-April 8th, 2022
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