By Tim King
Special to the Leader
When it comes to surviving a Maine winter, the best advice I can give is look to the trees.
Many have braved blizzards, ice storms, wind and rain – year after year – and are still able to explode with color and fragrance each spring. No matter how cold it gets, a tree never freezes completely. Deep inside, or well underground, the essence or ethos of the tree is patiently waiting for warmer days and nights to once again continue their never ending journey closer to the sun.
Proof of this can be found in the rings of melted snow and bare ground that circle trees as they continue to give off their life heat throughout winter.
The warm days of summer may seem far away, but we can still learn a lot from how trees adapt to months with minimal sunshine, harsh weather and limited nutrients.
You might think that removing the weight of thousands of leaves in fall, that trees have it easy for the rest of the year. What a relief it must be for branches to face the cold winds of winter without having thousands of tiny sails catching every breeze, pulling its anchoring limb along for the ride.
Branches that had been heavily weighted down and hanging to the ground during the summer are now well above my reach. Although necessary for their very survival, I think trees feel refreshed after depositing their used sunshine collectors for the year. I bet it’s similar to the feeling we get after a good haircut or wearing a T-shirt in the spring when the warm sun hits our bare arms.
For months during fall and winter, trees are battered and beaten. Silently, they stand up to the crackling ice storms, powdery blizzards and wind blown rain. Following last year’s Patriots’ Day storm, I remember walking down my street to see branches, limbs and even whole trees on the ground, succumbed to the force of the tremendous winds. At first, it seemed that the destruction was haphazard or worse, random.
It’s tough for humans to come to terms with tragedy that appears to happen for no “good” reason. After enough time though, it is said that all things happen for a reason. I believe this. Where I originally saw only destruction, I could now see an example of Darwinism at work – survival of the fittest.
It should be noted that the term used is “fittest” and not “strongest,” “toughest,” “bravest” or even “smartest.” Being “fit to serve” simply means being worthy, able or well-equipped for a task.
After a closer look, I noticed that the trees that survived best were those that were the most flexible. Of course, flexibility only goes so far. At some point, strength is also needed, but in this case it is not the primary reason for success.
It may sound counterintuitive – especially if you are looking at a pond, lake or swimming pool that is frozen solid right now – but it turns out that flexibility and adaptability are two of the key ingredients for surviving winter.
Don’t believe me? Then come by my house when the snow cover melts. My yard will be littered with the branches of oaks and maples that valiantly tried to fight off the wind, ice and snow with strength alone. The result – kindling. By contrast, even though there are many more pine trees in my yard, each year I notice a much smaller number of their branches on the ground.
It seems that even with their branches full of leaves (needles) that capture and carry a huge burden each time it snows, pine trees survive winter by being flexible, yielding to the weight of snow in order to outlast it – eventually, snow melts and falls to the ground.
Lao Tzu, who some call the Father of Taoism, wrote in the Tao Te Ching “Yield and overcome; Bend and be straight.”
So there it is. The key to surviving winter in Maine – be flexible. When you’re stuck in the house with the kids because its 10 degrees outside – be flexible. Invent a new game, rearrange your living room, maybe even ask your kids what they want to do – then actually do it, no matter how silly it may seem.
When a storm hits, keep your schedule flexible. Plan on trips taking longer than expected, or perhaps even being cancelled. This is true for trips across town or across the country. Snow happens.
After all, even professional truckers, with their strict timelines and schedules, are wise enough to pull over and wait for the storm to pass and the roads to clear. Rather than blindly raging against the storm and the possibility of having an accident, truckers yield to the forces of nature. If those guys can afford to wait a few hours to deliver hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of goods, shouldn’t the rest of us be able to do the same thing?
Come spring, I’ll once again likely complain about the nasty pollen, sticky sap and unsightly pines cones that are deposited throughout my yard. But I’ve got to hand it to Maine’s namesake, the pine tree, for showing me how to get through these next few months. Of course, I can’t wait to see the first green crocus breaking through the ground or the subtle green hue of millions of tiny leaf buds on trees around the neighborhood too.
Then again, the pines have been green all along and will be for evermore. And for that, I am envious.
Tim King is a freelance writer who sees the forest and the trees from his home in Scarborough. He can be reached at sylvan.sauntering@gmail.com