Lightning tree

Nothing more suitable to carry an electric charge to ground than a Ponderosa pine. I know of at least two trees in the neighborhood that carry the scar of a lightning strike, but this particular specimen appears to be of recent vintage. I am rather surprised that the electricity didn't go down the pole that is to the immediate right, but the tree was probably taller (I don't recall). And if you're curious as to why there are absolutely no branches interrupting that straight run down the trunk, you can thank the electric company, whose arborists lop off all branches that might possibly interfere with the power lines.

A yard full of pine cones

Upon setting forth for a short walk on Wednesday, I noted that there had been a major pine cone drop in one yard on my block.

Not only that, but this particular tree still has a good supply of cones for a further drop. Curious: I checked the other Ponderosas in the neighborhood, finding that only the trees on one particular property were so generously supplied with pine cones. It just happens to be at the house whose owner waters the most often.

So what to do with pine cones, aside from rake them into big bags that go into the trash cans? If you have a fireplace, you can use a few as tinder to help start fires. You might do as one householder on Vista did several years ago: pave the yard with them; after a few years, they begin to decay and lose their identity (above) but in the meantime, they make a neat, woodsy ground cover.

Squirrels and chipmunks tear the pine cones apart to get at the seeds. When I took a close-up of the cone above, the seeds were quite visible, lying against each of the individual scales. The Ponderosa do not provide those lovely pine nuts that the pinon give every five or six years. BTW, check out those two portable racks of dried fruit goodies in the Albertson's produce section -- the store sells little bags of pine nuts at a reasonable price.

Needle fall

It's wonderful to live in an forest of evergreens in winter. Though our deciduous trees are now bare skeletons, the ponderosa pines retain their everyday deep green.

However, if you look carefully at any cluster of needles, you will see that there are always a handful that are brown and dry. Which fact brings up another characteristic of our pines: no, they don't loose their leaves in the fall. No, they are evergreen -- and ever-shedding. All it takes is a half day of strong winds in any season and we have a major needle fall (below).

Covering the ground. Making the sidewalks slippery. And producing the one good reason I've discovered for a leaf blower: how else can one uncover those beautifully landscaped river rocks above?

Our little street now has patches of needle fall (above), much of it quickly worn down by passing automobiles (below). In our Arizona mountain forests, which are dry much of the year, the pine needles pile up inches to more than a foot deep over a period of years, producing a duff tinder just waiting for a lightening bolt or tossed cigarette to set the world on fire.

From the Link Lady: First the local -- Rich caught the downtown Christmas lights on a cold night this past weekend; better him than me freezing at the Square! And we have a new Prescott Daily Photo, currently focusing on the major features of our town. Moving down into the warm country, you might like to visit Kim who is documenting her historic neighborhood in Tucson. A different kind of documentation: Sweasel, your atypical American girl, has just moved herself to Sussex and is reporting on those strange cousins of ours, the Brits. For your handyman edification, Google has now scanned 100+ years of Popular Mechanics and Popular Science. Finally, a feast for the eyes and the soul: an Advent calendar featuring spectacular Hubble space photographs.

Pine caldelabra

Looking out my kitchen window toward the east, I've been struck how the new growth at the tops of nearby pine trees resembles giant candelabra. The tree above was the first to catch my attention; it is a landscape tree, likely a Scotch pine. The close-up below shows the first year, female pine cones near the top of the new stalks, while the male "cones" are those brown clusters located lower down on the branch, presumably to enable cross pollination.


Once I got involved in peering more closely at the current growth patterns, I discovered that there was yet another non-native, landscape tree visible while I drank my morning coffee. This fellow's candelabra are dark green; the close-in view suggests a bigger cluster at the base of new growth that includes both male and female cones.

The native Ponderosas in my neighborhood are big specimens which did not begin sending out their new growth as early as the aliens. However, I took these pictures about a week later, when the process was underway. The picture above shows both new, green first-year cones and mature brown second-year cones, which will be dropping one of these days. Yes, it takes not one, but two years for pines to create their seeds (pine nuts), which are found in between the scales of a cone.

Apparently there's no proper common term for the pollen producing male parts; the scientific name, of course, is a thorough-going mouthful: microsporangiate strobili. Did you get that? Did you try to pronounce it? During the spring pollen season in Prescott, everything is covered in a fine yellow dust, including the lungs of folk, many of whom are quite sensitive. You'll note that our local pines feature much longer needles and don't look nearly as tidy as the trees favored by the landscapers.

While I thought that our local pines might not develop the elaborate new growth shown by the aliens, I was obviously wrong -- here's a good example of a tree taking full advantage of the comparatively wet winter we enjoyed this year. New little Ponderosas will be sprouting after the monsoon rains set in; when my dotter lived up near Flag, she spent hours pulling up the little seedlings that came up all over her lawn.

Today, I caught sight of this pine at the Willow Creek Walgreen's. I couldn't figure out if it was one or the other of the trees I see from my window, or a different, third variety. But it's pretty against the sky so I included it here.

The trouble with pines...

As my dotter pointed out, the problem with pines is that we have not one but two seasons of needle fall. This is our month of high winds, cleaning out the Ponderosas and depositing pine needles everywhere -- even as the winds also dry out the forests, leading into our fire season. There is an accumulation of pine needles on roofs...

...and littering imitation Japanese landscapes of carefully placed, rounded river rocks ... which can only be tidied up by those awful leaf blowers. Raking won't hack it; I suppose it could be done by hand, but I don't expect that of many Prescottonians.

My ivy is almost covered by pine needles, tho I have only one big tree compared to my next door neighbors who must have 14 or 15, thus adding greatly to their property value ("in the pines" is one of those real estate code terms).

The neighbors did a bit of raking the other day; here is the result. As for me, I wonder about mulching pine needles and why, in forest speak, it's called "duff", not mulch.