My awesome weekend (plus friday...)

Friday: Exploring the greenspaces and backyards of Druid Hills in search of city champion and superlative trees- Tulip Poplars in particular. Added 2 more 15 footers to the list!

A small grove of 3 nice old Tulip Poplars were on Williams Albrights property near Clairmont and N. Decatur Rd. Now only 2 remain including this giant- over 15' CBH (see my intern Kate for scale)



Next up: Hidden Cove Park- another 15 footer! I named this one "Sidepocket"



On to Fernbank Forest and some off trail areas I haven't seen in a couple years:

These "twin" Tulip Poplar are amazing- the one of the right is probably the biggest in the forest (largest CBH for sure)


Neat Bloodroot- I have to see this patch in bloom next spring... look at the unique leaf shape of the 2nd plant too.



Cool bark on an Ash tree- DEEP furrows!



Bones! maybe a hawk or owl dined here. I really think the Red Tailed Hawk is my spirit animal.






Saturday: Urban Hike on the Beltline with my Sis and 36 of our closest friends (see here for a full synopsis)





Sunday: Lazy day at home... well not too lazy

Harvesting stevia from the garden (note exoskeleton on leaf)


Biking with Liza (1st time since surgery!)


Dank meal with tomatoes and rosemary from our garden (thanks Liza!)


Snugglin' with Ophie during the thunderstorm


Crazy (long overdue) Thunderstorm!! 3 inches of rain = a creek you could canoe down in our backyard!

Ode to a Red Oak

What a stately and graceful tree you were hugging that Tulip Poplar, stretching for sunlight.

Your limbs reached for help as you slowly crashed through the canopy layers to your current resting spot. It must have made a magnificent sound.

I wonder if it was during waking (human) hours or in the middle of the night. Either way I'm sure it stirred some creatures.

Your left your mark on the trees around you as well. It saddens me to see your striped branches once horizontal, now vertical as if in rigormortis.

The gap left in your wake will now allow your cousin White Oak to flourish though and create space for (a few of) the seedlings from the thousands of acorns you've dropped over the years.

Your life was not in vain, but I do have to wonder if it was cut short and if the hubris of my species was at all responsible.

Thank you for your life Red Oak. Thank you.