About 12:00 Noon
70 degrees F
 |
| Windy day beneath the Grand Magnolia. My camouflage chair sits against trunk. |
I think about John Muir and his adventures in the upper branches of a Douglas Fir, riding out a violent windstorm in the Yuba River Valley in 1874. "I kept my lofty perch for hours," he writes, "frequently closing my eyes to enjoy the music by itself, or to feast quietly on the delicious fragrance that was streaming past."
For a moment I consider climbing the magnolia to feel the force of the wind, but decide my seat at the base of the tree is equally delightful. Sunlight beams between the swiveling leaves, creating a kaleidoscope of shifting dapples at my feet. Every now and then, a blast of wind cuts under the lowest branches hurtling dead leaves in a swirl. Beyond the wind, I hear the caws of American crows--maybe the only bird with a voice loud enough to project over the wind.
Sitting under the tree beneath thousands of rattling leaves, the wind's voice seems to roar. The shaking branches bend and flex, but I wonder if some might break. Perhaps, but I recognize these are soft breezes barely worthy of calling wind. During the sixty years of its life, this tree has weathered much worse. Many hurricanes, tropical storms, and nor'easters have blown across the island during the past decades. When the Grand Magnolia first grew as a young sapling, it withstood Hurricanes Helene (1958) and Donna (1960). In later years, Hurricanes Diana (which struck twice in 1984) and Bertha (1996) made landfall along the southeast coast.
Hurricane Fran, the strongest hurricane to impact Carolina Beach in the last 25 years, came barreling in from the Atlantic on September 5, 1996. The coordinates at landfall (Cape Fear) meant that the most destructive side of the hurricane, the northeast quadrant, took dead aim at the town. A large hurricane with wind gusts more than 120 mph, Fran leveled hundreds of trees across the island and brought a storm surge of 8-12'. At the time I lived around the corner from the Grand Magnolia and did not witness its injuries from this hurricane. But I heard that the property lost dozens of longleaf pines, trees which evolved to withstand fire, not hurricane force winds. A series of other storms followed Hurricane Fran including Bonnie and Dennis in 1998, and Floyd in 1999. Throughout these storms, the Grand Magnolia stood strong with most branches and leaves intact.
For several decades, researchers at the University of Florida have studied the impacts of hurricanes on urban trees. Over the course of ten hurricanes, they evaluated more than 150 species to determine what factors cause a particular tree to be more or less resistant to hurricane force winds. As a result of their studies, the researchers created a list of recommended trees for hurricane-prone areas. On the list? Many native tree species including the live oak, bald cypress, flowering dogwood and southern magnolia, Magnolia grandiflora.
Here are my questions: How exactly do southern magnolias stand up to hurricane force winds? Foresters characterize magnolia wood as a soft hardwood because of air pockets inside the grain. Does this feature lend a critical combination of strength and flexibility to a magnolia's trunk? How about their large, thick leaves? Under the stress of high winds, why don't magnolias release their leaves and branches like other trees to increase wind resistance? Looks like I have some more research to do.
The Grand Magnolia has survived six decades of tropical storms and hurricanes, but I remain humble about its future. As meteorologists remind us, it's not a question of if, but when the next powerful hurricane makes landfall on our coast. Who knows what the storm season of 2017 will bring? Today I'm happy to sit here drinking tea while a warm winter breeze gently tousles the branches over my head. I'm grateful for another day with the Grand Magnolia.
For information about the wind resistance of urban trees, please reference the link below:
http://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/pdffiles/FR/FR17300.pdf
John Muir's quote comes from his essay, "Wind-storm in the Forests of the Yuba."
Hello Karen.
ReplyDeleteI was envious of you sitting under your tree in the warm southern spring. It is still so gray here and the temperature is 20 and the snow is still
falling. How majestic that tree must be! To be able to withstand all those hurricanes must indicate true character.
But to sit under that tree and experience the wind auditorialy, tactilely, and visually must be a sensory explosion for you. It seemed as if the wind was blowing through her hair . The clatter of the leaves, the creaking of the branches and the dappling of the shadows are sensual images that show the close relationship you have with this tree. It is as if you know the tree and the tree knows you.
I have always enjoyed a good storm. I lived in DC for many years and experienced some humdingers of hurricanes there but the wind and the pelting rain and the lightening always was so dramatic that I had to love the fury of it all. Nature at it's strongest.
Kudos to your magnolia for being the mighty tree that it is.
Your history of hurricanes was fascinating- and to think your great magnolia withstood them all! I also appreciated the John Muir reference, great connection there. I too am envious of your experience, but am glad to read all about it! :)
ReplyDeleteI really enjoy the amount of research you use in your posts. I was interested in not only the history of hurricanes in your area but also the questions you raise about how these trees are able to hold their own against the storms. I liked that you ended it with a link for more information for ourselves, which was helpful after you peaked my interest about their strength in windy conditions.
ReplyDeleteThis entry might be my favorite, for its research and for how you've woven that right alongside a very sensory personal experience. You may not have fallen into ecstasy like Muir did, but your descriptions are equally vivid and the information deepens your firsthand observations.
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