One theme of my missoula month could be Larches. Dear friends Allison and Greg are getting married in October and asked if I wouldn't create something for their wedding. So thinking about it I asked if they had a tree that resonated or was significant to them... I just happen to think trees provide great metaphors and imagery for weddings/marriages, and unbeknownst to me- prior to going to missoula this summer- Greg is a biologist whose specialty is tree physiology. Or something along those lines. Their quick and easy answer was Larch trees. I had much to learn about these spectacular and special trees of the northwest before I could create anything. So
... one beautiful sunday- after brunch at the Old Post (which included a seriously fantastic bloody mary...) we drove out to Pattee Canyon for some larch learnin... and lovin...
Larch trees are tall... and their branches don't extend out very far. They love the sun, and hate the shade. They are interestingly tapered on both ends.
This is a Ponderosa Pine here I believe... but another lovely tree, with its own brilliant secret: if you lean into the sun-side puzzle bark crevasses and take a deep breath you will inhale a warm, earthy vanilla scent. Not a sickening sweet vanilla like candles or perfume... but something other worldly that makes you want to keep taking long, deep breaths, absorbing as much of that heavenly goodness into your being as you possibly can.
Larches also have beautiful layered puzzle bark like the Ponderosas which helps them resist fire. The puzzle pieces of the bark curl outward and flake off away from the tree when they are burning- to save the tree from being completely destroyed.
Larches are the only pine (? Greg... may need some technical clarification here...) trees that loose their needles in the fall. They turn a beautiful golden color and drop like deciduous trees... I did not see this for myself, it being not quite time... but heard Allison and Gregs tellings of the beautiful swaths of golden throughout the evergreen mountains in the fall. I'd like to see that for myself some day.
The needles are extremely soft... not pokey like most pine needles. And hundreds grow out of one... um, what are they called again Greg? The stem things. They give the trees a distinctive, lacy and delicate look among all the other evergreens.
It was such a lovely warm August afternoon, the kind that comes right at the end of summer, giving you the distinct feeling of settled fullness. All the busyness of growth and producing, slowed and stopped. The air warm and breezy, and the sun, barely noticeably different somehow, its light hinting at fall... the grasshoppers with their syncopated and slightly electric zip zip zipping as they bounce through the air. Occasionally pelting into you as you go. The grasses dry, golden and gone to seed. At that perfect place of contentment between the ending of one season and the anticipation of the next. And, I, now too... am full. Full of larch-y goodness to take with me.
This is a Ponderosa Pine here I believe... but another lovely tree, with its own brilliant secret: if you lean into the sun-side puzzle bark crevasses and take a deep breath you will inhale a warm, earthy vanilla scent. Not a sickening sweet vanilla like candles or perfume... but something other worldly that makes you want to keep taking long, deep breaths, absorbing as much of that heavenly goodness into your being as you possibly can.
Larches also have beautiful layered puzzle bark like the Ponderosas which helps them resist fire. The puzzle pieces of the bark curl outward and flake off away from the tree when they are burning- to save the tree from being completely destroyed.
Larches are the only pine (? Greg... may need some technical clarification here...) trees that loose their needles in the fall. They turn a beautiful golden color and drop like deciduous trees... I did not see this for myself, it being not quite time... but heard Allison and Gregs tellings of the beautiful swaths of golden throughout the evergreen mountains in the fall. I'd like to see that for myself some day.
The needles are extremely soft... not pokey like most pine needles. And hundreds grow out of one... um, what are they called again Greg? The stem things. They give the trees a distinctive, lacy and delicate look among all the other evergreens.
It was such a lovely warm August afternoon, the kind that comes right at the end of summer, giving you the distinct feeling of settled fullness. All the busyness of growth and producing, slowed and stopped. The air warm and breezy, and the sun, barely noticeably different somehow, its light hinting at fall... the grasshoppers with their syncopated and slightly electric zip zip zipping as they bounce through the air. Occasionally pelting into you as you go. The grasses dry, golden and gone to seed. At that perfect place of contentment between the ending of one season and the anticipation of the next. And, I, now too... am full. Full of larch-y goodness to take with me.
2 comments:
I never liked the larch's actual name--it is jarring. But the tree and the lovely little journey you just took us on was fantastic.
Although the scientific name, tamarack, is rather beautiful . . .
Dearest Rach, thanks for posting. What a lovely day that was, and a lovely month beforehand, too. Miss you, friend, and wishing you all manner of goodness in your African journeys! Love to you!
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