Throughout my career in the outdoors, I have encountered many notable places, sights, and scenes, that are forever embedded in my bank of memories. I have stumbled upon hidden beaver ponds that resemble that of a city for fish, plant life, and fauna. As only an observer, I have been treated to many shows by the “citizens” of these wild villages leaving them as they have been for perhaps centuries. I have found fox and coyote dens and watched kits and pups frolic in the dust for hours on end. Otters have provided entertainment beyond description as mating pairs nuzzled one another taking frequent breaks to crack mussels and catch fish. Migrating geese have held my attention until “cricks” in my neck plagued me for days. Hollow logs, falling leaves, serpentine vines of muscadines, and many other pieces of nature have been offered as gifts to observe and to be part of our natural world for decades.
For this, I am grateful. Among these “treasures,” there have been many trees that have had a profound impact on what they have offered as well. I thought I would “share” a few trees that I still frequent often and what they mean and offer for entertainment.
Deep within the Pearl River swamp, near Oma, Miss., stands a water oak on the bank of an oxbow that is almost family. I call it the umbrella tree. Many years ago, I was chasing a gobbler on a particular piece of property. As usual, I had struck out and was heading for the truck. There was an intense storm brewing, but I had enough time to make it back to the truck before the rain set in. Or so I thought. I was walking across a field of cotton to be when a clap of thunder exploded so close and so loud that it put me in high gear across the field in search of refuge. The thunder was so intense I’m certain it could have been heard from Monticello to downtown Spartanburg, S.C. I know you shouldn’t sit under a tree in a lightening storm, but anything beat where I was, especially carrying a lightening rod on my shoulder in the form of my turkey gun.
I made it to the wood line to get out of the torrential downpour that was now upon me. Straight in front of me on the bank of a slough, was this massive oak with limbs reaching all the way to the ground and then “rising” back up. I wedged myself against the trunk and just below the crest of the bank of the slough. For over an hour the storm raged with fury. Sheets of water blew with the winds from above. Would you believe, I barely got wet? Other than the rain that penetrated my old Mossy Oak jumpsuit while I scurried for cover across the field, only an occasional drop hit the bill of my cap. Hence the name, “Umbrella Tree.” For decades, after finding this tree, many a gobbler met his demise while I sat at the base of this iconic tree. It has been years since I have been back there as nothing lasts forever. The property has since changed hands and I often wonder if that old, wonderful tree that may have saved my life, is still there? I hope it is.
At the end of Richton Road, where it, “T’s” into Stokes Road, stands another tree that has been the topic of conversation for years. One can’t help but notice it when you look straight across the road at the stop sign. In a perfect line, there are three holes in this tree that go all the way through the trunk. You can see completely through the tree through each hole. It has been a standing joke for years when Creede, his daughter Grace, and I bring up the same cliché about this tree. Do you know what you call a tree that has three holes in it? You call it a three-hole tree. Time and time again we still tell one another this. The tree is still there if you ever venture that way. In fact, if you take a right, be on the lookout for those red spider lilies too.
If traveling west on Old Agency Parkway, pay attention in a month or so to the black bear that is hugging a tree just to the left of the right of way. He’s there right now, but obscured by the foliage. There is a mass of bark, more like a canker, on the side of this tree probably 40 feet up the trunk. Whether you’re traveling west or east, it looks the same, almost like an enantiomer. When I say it looks like a bear, I mean it looks exactly like a bear hugging the trunk and he’s looking down at the passing vehicles. The next time you travel this corridor, especially when the leaves have fallen, take notice and see if you can pick him out. Be careful though, for there is no shoulder and the ledge is steep. If you drop a tire off on this road, you’ll be in a mess. Have you noticed “him” before? When Jett comes to visit, he always looks for him. In fact, he was the first to notice the bear when he was only 3 years old. He may turn out to be a hunter yet.
Back in the day, there was a tree in Claiborne County, deep in our hunting lease that we called the saddle. I bet you’ve already figured out why we called it that. That’s right, it was formed just like a saddle. My dad found it and it served for a perfect place to sit and ambush a buck. The tree had a wide branch off the main trunk about 3 feet high. The limb forked offering a perfect rest for cup of coffee and it also served for a nice shooting bench. Several bucks got to go for a ride in the jeep from this natural deer stand. I always wondered how this tree formed and grew this way. The lease has long since been gone, and I’m sure the timber has been cut, but it was a neat little place to sit on a frosty, November morning.
There is an ash that held my climber for over 30 years in Madison County. It was nestled along an overgrown fence line in between several giant red oaks. It was in the middle of a narrow strip of cane and briars that served as the perfect funnel for bucks traveling from bedding thickets to bigger timber during the rut. I won’t bother telling you how many legendary bucks passed by this medium sized tree every season. You probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. This was years before Madison County was known for how good the hunting was here for giants of the swamp. This tree provided a sitting place that would keep you on edge throughout the hunt.
One would never know what would emerge from the thicket when the subtle snap of a twig would gently pierce the solitude of the swamp. It balanced on the edge of haunting as the tips of dark, mahogany antlers could be seen just below the leaves of the switch cane. It took a strong heart and nerves of steel not to fall from the limbs when the moment of truth emerged mere yards from this tree. It has since changed, and the tree that took its place has some work to do to remotely be in the class of what I called, “the corner ash.” It's getting there though; it just has some years to catch up.
If you have ever happened upon a tree that was perceived to be bowed by weather, loss of the apical meristem, disease, or perhaps other natural causes, you may have stumbled upon what is referred to as an Indian marker tree. These trees were bent hundreds of years ago to designate trails, medicinal sites to find therapeutic plants, crossing points of rivers, and other areas of significance. In fact, the saddle tree I described, may have been one of these marker trees, but that was so many years ago, no one in our camp even thought about this possibility. It is uncertain how these trees were “trained” to grow in a particular fashion to offer guidance to other native Americans. Perhaps, the saplings at the time were just stomped to leave a temporary sign of where to turn and change direction. Maybe they were bent and tied to leave a sign and in years to come, the growth of the tree was altered, leaving a permanent marker for future generations. Regardless how they were fashioned, some of these markers are still out there. Have you ever noticed them? Perhaps you have seen them, and like me, didn’t realize what they were. Pay attention the next time you stroll the woodlands, you may find one yourself.
Do you have trees in your life that have a special meaning to you? Is there an old mulberry or pear tree in your childhood that you climbed every day after school? What about an old treehouse? Did you have a “camp” nestled among the limbs that your dad or grandfather constructed for you? I am certain I’m not alone in the fact that many of us have meaningful trees in our lives. If you have forgotten about some of these, then through this article, maybe I have brought them back to life for you and for a while you can think of these and reminisce. Oh, and don’t forget to look for the bear, you’ll be glad you did. Until next time enjoy our woods and waters, and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it.
