Piney Woods
- Rebecca Jim
- Nov 12
- 3 min read
I grew up in west Texas where there were few trees. The natives were mesquite that never grew tall, were gnarly and thorny and best known for how they smell when burned, an odor you may have experienced near barbeques, especially in Texas or when whole fields are BURNED to clear the land of it.
Having grown-up tree-less, living in the Black Hills and then in the Rocky Mountains twice, I loved the smell of the pine trees in the summer and the whistling sounds of the pines in the winter.
When I built my house out here on the prairie, it was only natural to get pine seedlings from the state and start planting. I didn’t want to plant them in standard rows, but rather like they might find themselves in any piney wood stands. So random it was on opposite sides of what would be my long road home each day.
They were little loblolly pines that didn’t seem to have a chance. Starting out so little and then no way to dodge when my dad would come over to help me keep the tallgrasses mowed down with the brush hog. It was brutal. I jumped on just to try to help him negotiate around them. Neither of us realized he was losing his vision in one eye at the time.
Those that made it big enough to be seen over the years then had to put up with insect attacks. The first were easy to handle. The gnawing sound would alert me of the invasion, the sound of the little worms chewing on the pine needles. It took some time and effort spraying with watered down lemon scented dish soap and for extra a little dash of something else I have long forgotten was added. This worked until the trees were too tall to reach the taller branches, then they were on their own. The season didn’t last too long and the pine needles would regrow and the trees survived.
Then it was the pine bark beetles. I had heard about them on a sentimental visit to the Black Hills one summer. A friend of mine from college still lived in the Black Hills, which are black because of the color of their pine trees. She explained to me that the trees were infected with these beetles and were dying in mass. She and the town were grieving and could do nothing about it, so they embraced it with a parade with a sarcastic twist using all of their artistic and clever talents to just deal with it as the new normal. I studied the phenomenon and what the beetles were doing to the lungs of the earth, the whole northern hemisphere all across Canada and then into the Rockies are impacted by this infestation.
It was only a matter of time before my little piney woods would be found. The first was the most beautifully shaped pine in front of my house. I was using it as my venture back into painting. She was my subject. As such, I watched her through the seasons as she began to change and begin to die. I never saw the beetles. But I did experience them. My research into climate change had these pine bark beetles on my radar. I began to watch for them. The description was they would appear like flying rice and that is exactly what they looked like. Lots of them swarming by. The invasion had come.
Not all of my trees at once. One by one down the lane. The upper limbs would lose needles, then limbs would break and fall to the ground. They looked broken. The ice storms didn’t help. But the dying continued.
A sign the trees know something is up, the year before they die, they put on hundreds of pine cones. Like they are determined to keep the species alive into the future with their last living effort.
The next threat. The electric company and the 15 foot on either side of an electric line rule.
I learned of this threat while in Oklahoma City and returned home after it was too dark to determine which trees would be targeted. But this is the Beaver Moon. And it is as powerful as they say. So light out, it was easy to walk beneath the line and visit the trees in their piney wood splendor, with none of the markings, no x’s showing. Just these lovely trees up against the moonlight and the wind creating a memory to cherish.
Out here on the land I am taking back to tallgrass prairie, the electric company and the pine bark beetles are both taking their roles seriously to help in that endeavor.
Respectfully Submitted ~ Rebecca Jim
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