Preserving American Beech Trees
American Beech trees are threatened by two different organisms: a fungus which attacks bark via puncture wounds and, more recently, an invasive nematode infecting leaves. The fungus gains access following invasion of a native insect, scale, which opens wounds in the smooth, grey bark. Though scale’s tiny puncture wounds do not ordinarily harm the tree, the access route allows the fungus to enter resulting in fatal disease within several years following infection.
At least in the case of the fungal disease, prevention is theoretically possible by selecting American Beeches which are naturally resistant to scale. These native trees would be expected to produce a high percentage of resistant offspring and, since the fungus is unable to penetrate intact bark, propagation of these resistant beeches would allow for the maturation of healthy trees despite the presence of the fungus. Of course, other injuries to the trees’ bark would still put them at risk, and dealing with the nematode infection is a separate and important battle.
Proceeds from images (below) support research to identify and propagate beech trees naturally resistant to scale, thus promoting survival. This approach to combating Beech Bark Disease seems both straightforward and achievable, given time and support. Treatment and prevention of nematode infection will also be necessary to promote survival of our native American Beech trees.
Beech Leaf, Winter, watercolor pen & ink (unavailable)
Beech Print 7, monotype
Tribute to the Beeches; linoleum relief (edition variation 2/8)
Beech Print 2, monotype
Winter Beech Leaves, solarprint
Beech Print 8, monotype
Beech Leaf Postcard, watercolor
Silent Beeches, monotype from tryptic
Beech Leaves on Snow; solarprint
My Disappearing Beech Trees
1.
Back in ’87, rod straight beeches
had flawless bark like fabric draped tight.
Wind drifting through the leaves
would wash away their silence,
the soft sough reminding me
not all reverence is found in churches
nor all passions spurred by fair hair
or soul-deep doctrine.
But then change quietly came
in the form of scale, a small insect
boring through beeches’ steel gray skin
to feed beneath the bark. Fungus
found the doorways opened and
fed themselves till blisters broke
and spread like a pox, a plague.
I watched each canker crack and open,
stared as sting of disease worked its way
through the woods until all that stood
was nightmare.
2.
Think of cities’ street-bound homeless
bundled on sidewalks in blankets and decay –
after you've seen the tenth or twentieth
or one hundred and twentieth,
wrench of pain closes the heart’s valves,
won’t let blood bear its numbing news.
The mind looks for detours,
side roads easier on the eyes.
3.
Think of beeches, my beeches
standing fifty feet tall, a foot wide,
while somewhere inside me
they vanish.
by Don Herzberg - 5/2021