TRnews
editors:
Roger
Irwin
Tim Amsden
Contact
the editors at:
Advisory
Board
Genghis & Sylvia Kahn
Alfred
E. Neuman
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contact the neighborhood editors.
THE GLORIOUS FLOWERS by Tim Amsden (Published in the Timberlake Times August, 2000)
In a place like Timberlake, where the winters are fairly long, the first flowers of spring are greeted with special joy. Early in the spring we watch for evening primroses, whole white tissue-like blossoms are among the first glowers that bloom. Then the orange spike of the first Indian Paint Brush, then the flowers start coming on faster - purple and blues and reds and oranges, whites and yellows - we didn't know flowers came in so many different shades of yellow.
The blooming of flowers here is like the slow painting of a glorious mural; splashes of new flowers are added, flowers which went before tend to remain. By early September, the roadsides and hillsides and valleys are awash with the colors of all the flowers blooming together. And every year is different - variations in rainfall and wind and grasshoppers and other factors change the plate considerably. Last year was the year of the sunflower. By late summer, huge swaths of bright yellow sunflowers were smeared everywhere.
Learning
the flowers here is a big job. Some are easy, such as the Rocky Mountain Bee Flower,
that tall purple flower which grows along the roadways and whole roots provide
black dye for Indian weavers and potters. So is Navajo Tea (Cort), which tall
narrow stalks and small yellow flowers are picked and dried to make iced tea.
Easy also is Chamisa, the large bush plant that is canopied with yellow blossoms
in late summer and fall. But there are dozens, perhaps hundred, more - Penstemon
and Prickly Pear and Mullen, Snakeweed and
Aster and Wild Four-o'clock, Indian
Blanket and Jemson Weed and Salsify - it's nice to be able to identify at least
a few.
If you'd like to learn to identify some of the flowers, there are many fine books available. El Morrow Monument bookstore is a good place to get flower books, and other books about the natural history of the area. And if you can only visit Timberlake once or twice a year, make one of your visits in the early fall. Come see how the landscape light up when the colorful mural of flowers is complete.
THE MAGIC OF SMELLS by Tim Amsden (Published in the Timberlake Times April, 2001)
Of all our senses, our sense of smell is the most evocative. A smell can instantly take us back to our grandparent's house, or childhood Thanksgivings, or a summer lake. For those of us from another part of the country, the smorgasbord of aromas, which grace Timberlake, are part of its special charm. We have a good friend who moved here recently, and the wonderful smells of this place was part of what first transfixed her. On her first few visits she would often step outside and say, "Smell that wonderful air!"
In
addition to the pine scent which graces the cool early morning air, there is the
clean bright smell of snow, and the tint of moisture just before a rain begins.
One of my riches memories of this place is driving through an early evening with
the windows down just after a late summer shower, and being transported by the
sharp aroma of sagebrush (which reminds me of fishing in Montana as a boy with
my father).
Then there are stinkbugs and glowers and the scary smell of smoke,
which may mean a fire has started somewhere.
Do you know about the smell of mature Ponderosa trees? If you put your nose against the bark of a large Ponderosa, you will smell a hint of either vanilla or caramel. When we first discovered this, we would smell tree after tree and announce, "this one is caramel", or "this one is vanilla!"
So take the time to stop and smell the roses, or the sagebrush or the stinkbugs or the rain. And stick your nose up against the bark of an old Ponderosa tree, and take a whiff. Makes you want a nice big bowl of ice cream with caramel sauce, doesn't it?
THE TREES OF RAMAH by Paul Merrill (Published in the Timberlake Times November, 2002
After much research and questions to Ramah people regarding the history and varieties of the Ramah trees, I realized that I lacked a lot of knowledge!
The original trees came to Ramah from Joseph City, Arizona in 1882, carried by John Bloomfield in one, 5-gallon can. Imagine having to worry about the water for families, horses, and stock, and also a can of trees.
There were three varieties of poplar: Lombardy, Carolina, and silver leaf (which all of my life was called in Ramah a silver maple but had no relation to a maple). These were planted around the old Bloomfield log cabin built on the Indian ruin at Bloomfield and McNeil streets. The home later became the Ashcroft home, then the Merrill Hotel, a boarding and rooming house owned by Tom and Mamie Merrill, who also raised ten children there. The home is now owned by Ken and Rosemary Harrington, and is on the National Historic Register. All the massive poplar trees in Ramah today came from cuttings and roots of those original trees, carried by John Bloomfield to Ramah in one, 5-gallon can.
In the early 1900's, Bob and Giles Master came from England to start the first trading post. The Master-Bond store is still standing vacant. The Master brought in black locust trees for their home site on McNeil and Tietjen. The house was later purchased by Jack Wilson and burned about 1925, on the site of what is now the Gene Merrill home. The black locust was planted for shade and also, because of its hard wood, for wagon and farming parts like double-trees and tool handles.
The fifth tree, the Chinese elm, was introduced in the 1930's by the Soil Conservation Service for windbreaks, erosion control in arroyos, and shade. They were later deemed undesirable as they grew into the plumbing, something that was not available when they were introduced.
Other trees planted since that time for shade have not been as durable or useful. The early trees grew tall because there were water ditches all over Ramah, filled from Ramah Lake with water used for irrigation.
BARK BEETLE
DISEASE: Its Role in the Life Cycles of our Timberlands
by
Anne E. Gilpin August 2000
Bark
Beetle disease occurs when conifers (primary ponderosa, spruce, firs, and piñon
pines) are left severely weakened due to advanced age, weather damage, lightning,
and extended drought conditions. These trees, already in less than vigorous health,
are candidates for mass colonization by bark beetles. The beetles (several different
species) proceed to chew through the bark, create chambers, mate, deposit eggs,
and inhabit the trees. In addition, some species deposit micro-organisms in the
forms of fungus and yeast, which are nutritional sources for the insects, but
hasten the death of the infested tree. McKinley
County Cooperative Extension Service was my primary resource of information about
this pervasive problem. My discussion with them, as well as the content of printed
materials they sent me projected a consistent, if not disappointing message. Once
a tree has been invaded and colonized by bark beetles, it cannot be saved. Prevention
and control of bark beetle disease in rural areas such as Timberlake is difficult.
Adequate irrigation of trees during times of drought can prove an effective preventative,
but implementing this measure is not feasible in our forest environment. The Extension
Service suggests removing and burning infected trees as quickly as possible. Once
again, deployment of this plan without participation and involvement on the part
of all Landowners would not seem workable. Contractors could be hired to spray
trunks and large branches of specific trees with a "seven suspension"
solution if landowners or group of landowner cooperated among each other to define
scope of work and share expense. This would be an individual group undertaking,
rather than a community project. Sheer
numbers and density of the tree population in Timberlake leave little hope for
a widespread preventative solution. Essentially, only bountiful
precipitation from Mother Nature herself will maximize the trees' defenses, and
minimize the devastation that has already permeated so much of New Mexico and
Arizona forestlands. How
disappointed I am! I'd hoped my research would deliver more hope, more promising
option. But truth and fact have valid roles in what we communicate as well. So
as unappealing as the facts may be today, they do not come without hope for better
conditions tomorrow. Ultimately, the cycles of Nature will evolve again. Healthy
forest will flourish, rains will be plentiful, the bark beetle will recede. (I
hope and pray!)