A Conversation about The Birch

I had an epiphany (also known as a light bulb moment) when I took my daily walk on an alternate path. I have several routes I follow, and this particular one goes past a beautiful small pond surrounded by birches. I was daydreaming about my column last week about Ben the Oak and wondering if I should have revealed that the squirrel that started the whole saga was called Barry. I often have second thoughts about what I write.

I shook off my doubts and glanced toward the pond. It was beautiful, surrounded by snowy evergreens and pristine white birches. Perhaps because I had been thinking about Ben the oak and his posture, I realized that all the birches were leaning over the water, weighed down by the snow. I have observed this over the years, and it is often a permanent condition among birches.

After a moment fantasizing about a lady birch named Eileen marrying my friend Ben the oak to engender a hybrid oak-birch dynasty of trees called, of course, the Dovers, I snapped out of it and just admired the beautiful birches. While the oaks are rightly famous for their strength and size, the birches are quietly beautiful and have virtues other than their landscaping value. There are many species of birch, the most famous in our area being the paper birch. The birch genus is mostly native to the Northern hemisphere, needing cool seasons, damp soil, (usually) high altitude, and bright sunshine. Birch is a valuable wood for flooring, plywood and furniture, and many different species are harvested commercially. 

I wanted to learn more about the paper birch, so I researched. Here’s what I found. The appearance of the paper birch is distinctive because of the bold white color and the black horizontal markings called lenticels. The bark looks like this for a very good reason. The bold white color is to reflect harmful winter sun… a tree can overheat in the winter. Who knew? But the bark is also flaky, which somehow allows photosynthesis in the winter, through the bark. Those black markings, the lenticels, are pores to facilitate exchange of CO2 and oxygen. 

The bark can be peeled off the trunk in sheets, which was a feature that made it possible for the indigenous people to utilize it for canoes, baskets and other water proof containers. The Neanderthals made spears (for hunting mammoths) from birch wood, and the glue to attach the points from the sap of the birch. The wood of the tree is amenable to carving, and makes excellent firewood. The sap can be tapped just like maples, and there’s a thing available called birch beer.

Birches are cold-adapted and it makes them susceptible to shortened lives due to climate change, and they are often easily damaged by wind and snow weight because they are what is called a pioneer species and thrive in the open. We rarely see huge birches any more without venturing deep into the Adirondacks or Canada (or Russia), but the species keeps showing up due to an effective seed dispersal system via catkins. The pollen produced is so prolific that it is considered one of the most common allergens, and the season can last for several months. It decreases as grass pollens begin to proliferate. Yay.  I’m glad I got curious about Ben and Eileen, the hypothetical Dover family.

The National Park Service provided much of the information I’m sharing, and the article can be found at: https://www.nps.gov/articles/netn-species-spotlight-paper-birch.htm.