Margaret Cheasebro

If you're looking for an interesting place to visit and to enjoy seeing ancient Bristlecone pine trees, one destination could be Great Basin National Park in eastern Nevada. It's one of the less visited national parks but quite scenic.

Bristlecone pines can live very long lives. Some have been found to be almost 5,000 years old. Of the pine's three species, pinus longaeva is one of the longest-lived life forms on Earth. The trees are commonly known as Great Basin bristlecone pines. They can be found in Utah, Nevada and Eastern California. Great Basin National Park is a good place to see pinus longaeva trees.

The trees often look twisted and gnarled, and their wood is very strong. They grow slowly and often do well with little or no rainfall in rocky soils that are alkaline, high in calcium and magnesium and low in phosphorus. They thrive in harsh environments. Their branched shallow root system makes them very drought tolerant.

One reason bristlecones live so long is because of the proportion of dead wood to live wood in a tree. That helps to reduce the tree's respiration and water loss. They grow so slowly because of the environment in which they thrive. They do well in cold temperatures with dry soil, high winds and slow growing seasons, according to Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia.

Dendroclimatologists like to study the trees because their great age gives clues about variations in past climates. Analyzing tree rings and wood properties helps climatologists discover environmental factors such as temperature and precipitation that affect the trees' growth.

If you want to see bristlecone pines other than the pinus longaeva, you can find Rocky Mountain bristlecone pines (pinus aristata) in Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona. Foxtail pines (pinus balfouriana) can be found in the Klamath Mountains and the southern Sierra Nevadas. Some specimens of both the pinus aristata and pinus balfouriana have been estimated to live up to 3,000 years, but neither is as ancient as the pinus longaeva. Unfortunately, the Rocky Mountain bristlecone population is threatened by white pine blister rust, a fungal disease, and by mountain pine beetles.

If you decide to visit Great Basin National Park, you can take US Route 93 north from Las Vegas, Nevada, and stop at several interesting places along the way, among them the Alien Research Center and Area 51, which is known for all kinds of conspiracy theories. It's about a 285-mile drive from Las Vegas to Great Basin National Park, according to an article in the July/August/September 2025 issue of AAA Explorer. A good time to go is from late May to October, the only time the Wheeler Peak Scenic Drive to the bristlecone trail head is open, depending on snowfall. Wheeler Park Scenic Drive is pretty high up, about 10,000 feet above sea level. Check with Great Basin National Park at 775-234-7331 for details.

A unique European Space Agency satellite called Biomass was launched on April 29 to help understand what is happening in many different areas of the world, including how much carbon is stored in forests and other vegetation.

During the Living Planet Symposium in Vienna, Austria on June 23, the first images taken from the satellite with its P-band synthetic aperture radar were revealed.

The radar tool measures the biomass of forests beneath the trees' canopy, making it easier to measure a forest's biomass and carbon content.  It also measures subtle terrain and vegetation differences, exposes the contours of volcanoes, and reveals structures such as ancient riverbeds and geologic formations up to five meters (or about 16.4 feet) below the surface.

It penetrates below glacier ice to determine the dynamics and stability of ice sheets, which helps scientists understand future sea-level rise in our warming world.

The satellite's mission is designed for five years. According to a June 23rd article written by Daisy Dobrijevic in space.com, "Biomass will provide consistent, global coverage of Earth's forested regions, contributing vital data for climate models, conservation efforts, and carbon accounting."

Michael Fehringer, ESA's Biomass Project Manager, called the images revealed during the symposium spectacular. "As is routine," he said in a statement, "we're still in the commissioning phase, fine-tuning the satellite to ensure it delivers the highest quality data for scientists to accurately determine how much carbon is stored in the world's forests."

Pictures of tropical forests and the free-flowing, undammed Beni River in Bolivia show different colors that highlight ecosystems, including green for rainforest, red for forested wetlands and floodplains, and blue-purple for grasslands.

In the northern Amazon rainforest in Brazil, images showed red and pink tones that indicated forested wetlands and floodplains. Green tones showed dense forests.

Images of Halmahera's volcanic rainforests in Indonesia captured the complex topography shaped by volcanic forces. Images in Gabon of the forests and the Invindo River revealed the river and its tributaries in a green background that represents unbroken rainforest.

The colorful images unlock all kinds of details that help scientists understand the state of the planet's health and its forests.

To see some of the images generated by the Biomass satellite, go https://www.space.com/astronomy/earth/nothing-short-of-spectacular-esas-biomass-satellite-releases-1st-views-of-earth-from-orbit-photos

When I approach the door to the San Juan College fitness center in Farmington, NM, where I walk the indoor track, beautiful vegetation lines both sides of the wide cement sidewalk. There is an array of colorful flowers as well as several young trees.

They are desert olives a small tree native to the Southwestern United States. It takes maybe five or six years for the trees to produce fruit, clusters of purple-black drupes that are edible for humans but taste kind of bitter. Because the wood is light, tough and flexible, some people like to use it to build furniture and make crafts.

When I walk by the desert olive trees on my way to the fitness center, I enjoy noticing their small light green leaves. They reflect the sunlight and create almost a lacy view of the buildings and landscape behind them. These young trees don't have berries yet. They'll need to grow a few more years first.

I've been told that if you decide to taste a berry, be prepared to pucker up. They can be pretty bitter. Some people say if you eat several berries at the same time, their bitter taste isn't so overpowering. I'm not sure I'd want to be that adventurous. What's a little bitter to some might make me take huge gulps of water to drown out the taste.

If you decide to plant a desert olive tree in your yard, choose a sunny spot. They like at least half a day of direct sunlight. Though they can handle shade, desert olive trees really do like the sun.

For me, I'm just happy to enjoy walking by the young desert olive trees on my way to the college fitness center. I enjoy them again after I've walked a mile or two on the indoor track and head back to my car, tired, sweaty and thankful for the shade the trees provide.

Over the years, film maker and artist Joshua Bonnetta has made sonic records of places that had meaning for him. They were private mementos for him.

As he learned more about long-form field recording, he decided to document a pine tree in Tioga County, New York, for 8,760 hours, a total of 365 days from May 2021 to April 2022. The recording captured, among other things, the sounds of crickets and frogs, the tree's creaking branches, and even a raccoon.

With the help of Holger Klinck, an expert in conservation bioacoustics at Cornell University, he was able to use spectral analysis software to identify sounds graphically. Another friend, Josh Berger, introduced him to a program that helped him to clean up the sound as well as dismantle the sounds and put them back together.

It took Bonnetta three years between other jobs to create what he calls The Pines, a spectral collage of four hours of sounds that document a year in the life of the tree and its natural surroundings. An essay by Robert Macfarlane accompanies it. The Pines is out now on Shelter Press and The Dim Coast.

The Pines contains Bonnetta's amazing accomplishment of documenting the tree and its surroundings in the best way he could. No other year in the life of that tree will ever be the same. Bonnetta has, in essence, captured and immortalized sounds that are unique to that year.

To learn more about Bonnetta and his projects, read Claire Biddle's article, "Trunk call: Artist who spent a year listening to a tree," in the May 9, 2025 issue of The Guardian Weekly.

Bonnetta's next project is to document the inner geological sounds of the Alps. Currently, he lives in Munich, and the sounds of his new city fascinate him. Perhaps one of these days he will capture and immortalize them as well.

The ancient Romans invented a way to grow fruit trees flat against a supportive structure.

During the Renaissance in Europe it evolved into an art form. It allowed the production of large quantities of fruit in smaller spaces. Eventually, the technique became an art form. Trees grown with the espalier method became living sculptures. Many ornamental trees and plants were also grown using the espalier method to create works of art.

Thomas Jefferson, the third president of the United States of America, used the technique at his Monticello estate to grow fruit trees. He was an innovator in agriculture. His use of the method helped introduce espalier to the United States.

Now it is being used at San Juan College in Farmington, New Mexico. When I attended the Four Corners Harmony barbershop show May 17 on the San Juan College campus at the Connie Gotsch Theatre, I noticed a distinctive looking small apple tree growing against a wall by the parking lot. It looked like it had wooden trellises supporting the branches that made them grow in a straight line. I thought the tree might have been injured and needed extra support, but that wasn't the case.

San Juan College Grounds Supervisor Aiessa W. Thomas told me more about the method. "We are using an Espalier system to grow trees along the wall," she said. "This is a decorative and functional system that allows us to save space, ease of harvest and easier maintenance. We would normally grow these along trellis wires, but we have yet to get our little project finished so we are just using small wood trellises for now."

Some of the benefits of the espalier method are space efficiency, increased sunlight and airflow, ease of harvesting and maintenance, aesthetic appeal, and enhanced productivity.

Among the most popular tree choices for using the method are apple, pear, fig, and citrus. Climbing vines or roses also respond well to the method.

If you use the technique, it's important to install a support system such as wires or trellises and to make the structure strong enough to hold the weight of the tree or ornamental plant once it is fully grown. Add soft ties to the branches as it grows so they will create the pattern you want. Check them often to be sure they are growing in the right direction. Regularly prune them to maintain the shape and structure you want.

To learn more about this method, one helpful book is Espalier Fruit Trees for Wall, Hedge, and Pergola: Installation, Shaping, Care by Karl Pieber.

For more information on how to use the espalier method, go to https://deepgreenpermaculture.com/2009/09/29/espalier-supporttrellis/

I just finished planting my little garden in a plot in one corner of my back yard. It's small enough that weeding isn't too big a chore, and it's large enough to yield plenty of vegetables for me as well as a few for neighbors and friends. Even though weeding isn't too big a chore, it's a gardening task I haven't always enjoyed.

But planting my garden gives me lots of pleasure. There's something about being outside in the sunshine, digging in the soil, planting seeds or small sprouts that makes me feel good, healthier. An article, How Nature Heals by Charlotte Hilton Andersen in the May/June 2025 issue of Reader's Digest, explained that being in nature can be so healthy that some doctors prescribe it for their patients.

Taking a walk, hiking in a forest, mountain or by a lake, or visiting places such as botanical gardens all immerse us in the out-of-doors. Doing anything outside, including riding a bike or having a picnic, all expose us to the benefits of nature.

If you don't feel like gardening or hiking, try sitting under a tree for a few minutes. It will help reduce your stress and improve your mood. That can be especially helpful if you're someone who needs time alone. When you sit under a tree, take time to enjoy its beauty and absorb the calmness that often surrounds trees. You will leave feeling like you're ready to handle the rest of your day with greater energy. It even helps your immune system do a better job of keeping you healthy.

Some doctors like to prescribe walking outside or even taking off your shoes and socks and feeling the grass with your feet because those activities have many health benefits. Among them are lowering your blood pressure, reducing inflammation and chronic pain, helping with weight loss, and even lowering levels of stress, anxiety and depression.

I wasn't aware of all the benefits of spending a few minutes outside in nature until I read that Reader's Digest article. I just knew that every time I came inside after gardening my mood improved. I had more energy. I was in a better frame of mind.

I didn't used to relish the never ending task of weeding my garden. Now when I grab my hoe, I do it knowing that every minute I spend in my garden is helping my health to improve. That puts a whole new perspective on keeping weeds under control!

The art of shaping and caring for miniature trees in pots is known as bonsai. The material for bonsai trees can be collected in the wild, from landscape and nursery plants, or even cut from part of a full size tree.

If you have ever seen a beautifully crafted bonsai tree, its magnificence can take your breath away. They are often grown in fired earthenware pots that give good support to the tree but don't call attention to themselves. The main focus is the bonsai tree itself. More than one tree can be included in a bonsai creation. Every successful bonsai creation requires frequent and meticulous care by the artist. In Japanese, the word bonsai means a tree planted in a shallow container.

Bonsai is a historic Japanese art form derived from an ancient Chinese horticultural practice called penjing, which began during the Han dynasty perhaps 2,000 years ago. Japanese redeveloped it with influence from Japanese Zen Buddhism.

Successfully caring for bonsai trees requires an understanding of horticulture and art. Taking care of bonsai trees includes paying attention to the plant's water and nutritional needs, caring for it in case of injury or pests, and protecting it from harsh weather.

The best bonsai compositions seem natural and don't call attention to what the artist has done with the plant, according to Robert J. Baron, a Bonsai researcher and historian. You can read an article he wrote about bonsai trees at https://www.bonsaiempire.com/what-is-bonsai.

Bonsai artists spend much time shaping the miniature trees by doing such things as pinching buds, pruning and wiring branches. They may use less fertilizer so the plants will grow as they want it to. The ultimate goal is to make the bonsai creation look like a realistic part of nature. The art of bonsai continues to develop and improve.

Some bonsai artists grow an entire miniature forest in a pot. Long-time Japanese American bonsai artist John Naka and his tiny forest creation were featured in the February 2025 issue of National Geographic in an article written by Becky Little. By the time Naka finished nurturing it, part of it stood nearly five feet tall.

As a young man, Naka began his tiny forest creation by cutting off the top of a mature juniper tree (with permission) and planting it in a pot. He cared for and crafted the plant for many decades. Over time, he added 10 more trees, one for each of his grandchildren. He called his miniature forest Goshin, a Japanese word that is pronounced go-SHEEN. It means "protector of the spirit." In 1984, Naka gave Goshin to the National Bonsai and Penjing Museum, part of the National Arboretum in Washington, D.C. There, it is known as one of the world's best bonsai arrangements.

After that, Naka taught curators how to continue caring for his creation. Naka was 89 when he died in 2004.

Just about anyone with enough patience and the willingness to learn can work at creating an artistic, healthy bonsai tree.

A friend I went to junior high and high school with many years ago has led an interesting life. Her name is Lena Yacoumopoulou.

One of her experiences involved being part of a United Nations Peace Keeping mission in Haiti in 1990 and early 1991. The mission was called ONUVEH (UN Observer Group for Verification of Elections in Haiti). They worked with the Organization of American States as well as local police and military to register and conduct free and fair elections.

Once Jean-Bertrand Aristede was elected in December 1990 and inaugurated in February 1991, her peace keeping mission ended. But during the time she spent in Haiti, she did some sight-seeing. Among the places she visited was Le Centre d'Art in Port-au-Prince, the island nation's capital.

At the center, she took pictures of some remarkable works of art. Among them was a painting of a tree sculpted to look like a flying horse. The background included a manicured garden with trees and bushes. A white chair stood in front of the flying horse tree. Lena did not know the name of the artist. Two emails to the art center on January 28 and Feb. 10, 2025, went unanswered.

The art center was established in 1944 by the American watercolorist DeWitt Peters and a group of Haitian intellectuals and artists. Peters was its first director. The art center was recognized as a public utility in 1947. It promoted artistic creation in Haiti, according to the center's website at https://www.lecentredart.org.

I was hoping to learn if the painting survived a devastating 7.0 magnitude earthquake that struck Haiti on January 12, 2010. The earthquake badly damaged the art center. It reopened in 2014 on its 70th anniversary. In 2019, the center was able to purchase a large gingerbread mansion in the area of Pacot, Port-au-Prince with the help of many donors. In its new location, it continues to be an art center, art school and art gallery.

On the center's website, I could find no picture of the painting Lena photographed in 2010. I hope it survived. The artist's depiction of a tree almost magically sculpted to look like a flying horse is quite beautiful.

There is a small tree, a cockspur hawthorn, in a yard not far from my house. I drive by it every time I go shopping. It lost its leaves late last fall. Its thin bare branches are taking time to rest until they flourish again in the spring.

Though the tree has no leaves, it does have several clusters of small reddish brown berries that still cling to the branches. They look determined to hang on. It may be easier for them to keep their grip because this winter has been drier and warmer than normal. Even the wind has not dislodged the berries.

Trees have their own trials, just like we do. And just like trees, we sometimes struggle through tough times. I'm amazed that when I look back at those difficult times, the memories don't seem quite so bad. It's as though time took a paintbrush and used gentle brush strokes to soften those memories.

I remember the image of the paintbrush when I experience moments that are painful, exasperating, or sorrowful. If I can make it through those tough times, things usually get better.

I often use my Picture This app to learn the identity of trees, bushes and flowers. It's a great app to have if you want to learn more about nature around you. When I took a picture of the cockspur hawthorn tree, the app gave me its name and told me it looked like it wasn't in the best of health.

Last summer if I'd taken a picture of the tree, those berries would have looked radiantly healthy. It's those radiantly healthy times that we tend to take for granted. It's only when we get sick or have aches and pains or experience a deep loss or disappointment that we wonder if we have the strength and tenacity to hang on. Once we get better, once the aches and pains lessen and the sorrows fade, we start to feel stronger and more hopeful again.

When I drive by the cockspur hawthorn tree, I remember that before too long it will be sprouting new leaves and growing new berries in springtime. On days when I feel less than my best, I remember that if I give myself time to rest, soon I will feel better too.

Winter, trees, and sunlight sometimes combine to create memorable scenes. When I was looking through the picture file in my iPhone, I came across one I had taken years ago of a cottonwood tree north of Aztec, New Mexico, across the highway from where I used to live.

The sun created a circle of light behind a cluster of higher branches that stood bare in the winter weather. Something about the sunlight pouring onto the branches made me feel a little less cold and a little more hopeful that spring, leaves, and warmer weather aren't that far away.

The cottonwood has been known by several names over the years. First, it was just the cottonwood by the irrigation ditch. Then, over the years as the tree became more than just another tree, it became the Healing Tree. Standing near its trunk sometimes helped people feel healthier, nurtured and loved. Eventually, the tree let me know it preferred the name Grandfather Tree. Though it's only a guess, the cottonwood could have been about 200 years old.

It has since fallen over and no longer stands beside the irrigation ditch. But when I visit the place where Grandfather Tree once stood, I can still sense the essence of itself. I remember many experiences with that tree – feeling more energetic as I stood near it, watching a mother goose sit in a nest on eggs in a fork of the tree, standing for several minutes by it with a friend whose breathing challenges lessened.

Then there was the day I walked near the tree and saw sunlight form a circle behind upper branches of the tree. The ball of light held such promise for me. It will not always be so cold. The trees will sprout leaves again. Hold on to hope. More comfortable days are coming.

If you get a chance, find some trees to walk among. When times in your life feel most challenging, you may sense hope as the trees surround you with their welcoming presence.