August 2009 Calendar Picture and Discussion

The main entrance into my neighborhood is at the end of the street 3 blocks from where I live. It tees into a highway and just across there is a large vacant lot where a house stood 50 years ago. The amazing Southern live oak there hasn't changed much in my lifetime.


I've known the tree all my life and see it every time I drive to the end of the street, but when I went on a photo expedition there, I was in for a treat! I took a great many pictures and, while I didn't use them all here, I can honestly say I don't think it's possible to take an uninteresting view.


Here's the view looking past the tree, across the highway, and down the street on which I live. Another set of branches, to the left off the photo, stretch out to reach the ground.


Stepping outside the canopy and taking this photo of the low branches was like getting a glimpse into the "Magic Forest."


Here are the same branches from the other side. I can only hope that in a city, Bradenton, FL, that values its oaks, this grand old master will be preserved.


Here's the oak exactly as it looks from one's car sitting at the stop sign at the end of my street. It's hard to get a good sense of it's massive scale.


Thanks to Jack for helping with this and the next shot which help to put things in perspective.


In part, the "Wonderland" appearance is created by what I grew up calling potato vines and many people call air potatoes.


One of the great charms about this tree is that it was allowed to branch close to the ground and grow without pruning for it's entire life.

These are good views of the air potato vines which they call an invasive species. While Dioscorea bulbifera isn't edible, it's related to the sweet potato.


My dad, 84, remembers these from when he was a kid, and they always seem to be about as much of a pest without getting too much worse because they can't stand cold and die off every winter. The astonishing thing about them is that, late in the season, they bear fruit which look like potatoes hanging in mid-air. These can be as big as a baking potato and each will start a new vine the following year.


Deep under the canopy, and looking up at the sky peeking through, you get the feeling that you could be plucked up any minute!


Though the dark hands hover overhead, there's no feeling of malice or evil. It's more like a sensation that you could be dusted off and brought to a high branch for a visit.


This is my favorite shot of the entire series. I had to hold the camera over my head to get a better view into the cradle of the branches. They are carpeted with resurrection fern (Polypodium polypodioides) and look like an inviting spot for a nap. Just as I turned to step away, I'm sure, out of the corner of my eye, I caught an elf poking his head up to get a better look at me!


This is a close-up of the resurrection fern. After a rain it is lush and deep green for several days, but if it doesn't rain, it soon dries up and looks brown and lifeless. All it takes is about two hours after a bit of moisture to "resurrect" again.

I was lucky enough to get another shot of the above scene during a time when there had been no rain for about a week. The following animation shows this remarkable plant dead and dry, then coming to life after a rain.


This air plant is common to Florida and derives its sustenance from the air and nutrients it traps against the bark of the host tree to which it is completely harmless.


At the base of the trunk I found a couple more "hitch-hikers." The philodendron is a common visitor to our oaks. I've seen them growing high in the branches. The Florida Strangler Fig (Ficus aurea) normally starts higher in the tree and sends long entwining roots down the host's trunk which can damage or "strangle" it. Though it is a native, the strangler fig, must eventually be cut if one wishes to preserve the host.


Just when I thought this marvelous oak had no more surprises, I noticed, high in the branches a cactus (some type of Cereus Epiphyllum I think).


These cactus bloom only a couple of times a year, at night, and are known for their fragrant showy blossoms. They often root themselves in the crotch of a limb and have no connection to the ground at all.


I like this shot because the ubiquitous Spanish moss tendrils give the appearance of a streaked watercolor. The moss is normally a silvery gray in color, but turns bright green after a rain.


Here's a final shot of this great Southern live oak, and looking past it, straight down the street on which I live. Every time I'm sitting at the stop sign, waiting for a turn, I'm happy to see my friend thriving and nurturing all those other plants that depend on it.