Falling Trees

Gales have been a feature of this winter. There was one this weekend, although it was fairly calm compared to the one in mid December, which caused havoc in out local forests. I went to the Hermitage near Dunkeld to see its impact. Walking in from the car park to Ossian’s Hall there is a huge shard of wood standing out of the shattered stump of a Douglas fir and many trees in the grove below Ossian’s Hall are lying flat, roots in the air. The tallest tree in Britain (is it still?) is still there though. The effect of the wind seems random, one tree is felled its neighbour is still standing. Conifers are particularly prone to wind. The beech trees on The Gallops near Kenmore are mostly still standing after the gales, even though they are elderly now. Their sinewy looks reflect a stronger woody musculature than the conifers. A couple of beeches had been caught, but it was easy to see why they went, they were full of rot and hollow at the base. But the conifers toppled or broke without any obvious weakness. Some fell right over with their root plates pulled clean out of the ground, others snapped or twisted to leave a mangled stump.

The path to Pinecone Point, a great viewpoint over the Tay valley, was closed because so many trees were down. In places it looked like forestry machines had been out, laying the trees in neat ranks and leaving few survivors. The wind must have blasted from the west, down Strathbraan and swirled around the base of Craigvinean crag, felling the trees as it went.

It’s exciting to see the results of powerful weather but it would have been terrifying to have been there. It brought to mind the old philosophical conundrum: if a tree falls in the forest with no-one to hear does it make a sound? I’d rather not find out but it didn’t stop John Muir. He described in his book The Mountains of California how he climbed a Douglas fir during a storm in the Sierra to listen to the music of the gale and see the trees dancing in the wind. It seems insane now but it shows what a remarkable naturalist Muir was that he could judge a safe tree and have the confidence to climb it and stay there for hours so that he could not just observe, but also feel part of, the natural world.