NABF Newsletter #4

Feature #8

From Some Wild Place

By Andrew Smith

Walking on a narrow mountain ledge I found a fantastic, wild-looking, old juniper. It was an ancient, ancient tree and the driftwood on the trunk had been carved by the wind until it flowed like water. I carefully inspected the crevice where it was growing and found that it had a collectable root system (a rarity), but only a small one. I was not sure I dared to collect it, so I decided to wait for my pal and examine it again with him.

A couple hours later we climbed back up to where I had discovered the tree. But this time we found that our way onto the ledge was blocked by the most aggressive rattlesnake I can ever remember coming across. Although we see rattlers frequently, they almost always retreat if given a chance. But this one showed no sign of moving and actually reared up to confront us. It was so mad that it struck repeatedly at the shadow of my hand on the rock and it's tail never quit buzzing. I was reminded how in the foundation myths of many cultures there is a sacred tree guarded by a serpent. I was hoping this wasn't it.

We couldn't get past the snake onto the ledge, and we couldn't manage to scare him off, so finally we climbed up above him and dropped down onto the ledge about ten feet away. We studied the tree for a long time before deciding to go ahead and collect it and we proceeded very slowly and carefully after we did. The collecting went well, but the whole time I was thinking about the snake and how we could get the tree past him. I didn't know how. But when it was time to go we heard a sudden silence and found that the rattler had vanished. That was almost worse. At least we knew where he was before!

Now, years later, whenever I look at that tree I think about the rattlesnake. The tree has a certain magic to me because of it. And I find that most of the trees I have collected are that way. Each one has a story. What is charming about these old specimens is that they constantly speak the language of the land from which they came.

One of the greatest things about bonsai is that it offers us such a wide-open doorway into nature. No one can work or play at bonsai for very long without finding themselves being slowly but surely pulled into the rhythms and seasons of the sun and rain and into the tranquil pace of things that grow. And maybe even into encounters with snakes, wind, getting lost and everything under the sun.

This can be a very welcome change from the senseless hurrying of contemporary life and the cell phones, traffic jams and deadlines that tend to clutter up our days. Bonsai is an art of un-distraction. There is a sort of faith that's implicit in tending plants. We partake in the miracle of life without really needing to understand it. But we must in some way become the tree to feel its need for rain and in some way become the cloud that provides the rain if we are to keep our bonsai alive and beautiful. In this way caring for our bonsai stirs our awareness of nature.

And so it's quite natural that sometimes the urge strikes to go out into nature, to wander the mountains or wade the swamps to seek a tree that can be trained into a bonsai. I think that doing so adds a great deal of depth to our bonsai experience. We can see the tree in it's own environment and we can experience that environment ourselves. Just the fact that it gets you out there makes it worth it. I believe it is important to get to know the natural world, to get your hands dirty, sweat and smell the soil. To successfully find and collect a tree requires a certain intimacy with the landscape and the seasons that cannot be gained any other way. If you spend much time at it you will develop a familiarity with the forest that few people can match.

Collecting trees from the wild goes back to the very roots of bonsai and can be considered a fundamental part of its culture and history. The first known bonsai were naturally dwarfed trees collected in the mountains of China nearly 2,000 years ago. And it amazes me today how closely a small bonsai pot and it's gravelly soil replicates the growing conditions in a tiny crevice on a mountain ledge somewhere. I have heard the story that Zen monks would search the mountains for years to find a "bonsai" in nature that expressed their true self. I don't know if that's true, but I like the idea. For me bonsai has always had a bit of the quest about it. But maybe I just like to wander.

America today offers unprecedented opportunities for collecting bonsai from the wild. We are a huge country with an enormous range of habitats and hundreds of millions of acres of forested wild lands. From the swampy forests of the south where the bald-cypress grow, to the desolate, near-desert mountains of the west where ancient junipers cling to rocky crags, to the cow-bitten apple trees of eastern pastures to the larch in the north there is no lack of excellent and interesting bonsai material almost everywhere you look. And it's waiting for you!

And although mountain ranges and wild places are the more famous sources for collected bonsai material, you might not even have to leave your neighborhood to find some. One source of material that has not been exploited enough (in my opinion) is old landscaping plants in urban settings. Every time I drive around a city my jaw about falls open at some of the beautiful potential bonsai I see that seem to be neglected or ignored by their landowners. A knock on the door and fifty bucks might get you a priceless tree. And there's no harm in asking! In downtown Rapid City I found a hillside full of American elm that had been lopped off with a brush-hog repeatedly over many years. The trees are three feet tall, covered in dense branches and have trunks up to eight inches in diameter! No doubt when the property is developed they will all be bulldozed away. Well, not all, since I might get one or two first!

And bulldozers are just the start. It's important to realize that nature itself is dynamic and ever changing, rather than static. We tend to think of a forest as something everlasting, but I have seen many thousands of acres where I had formerly collected trees go up in a roaring wildfire in a single afternoon after a dry lightning storm. In the western states many hundreds of thousands of potential bonsai specimens are deliberately cut down every year during forest thinning projects to reduce fuel loads and to improve habitat. Countless more are destroyed during development, mining, logging, road-building and control-burning. And the forests are still over-stocked with small, suppressed trees. Many of these trees would make excellent specimens for bonsai. Why not use them?

Still, it's critical that environmental concerns remain in the forefront of any collector’s mind. Although we cannot exactly follow the "take only pictures, leave only footprints" creed and still collect a tree, we can try to come as close to it as possible in spirit. Any collector of anything from the wild bears the burden of responsibility to do so in a way that will not cause long term damage or disruption to the ecosystem. It is essential in our crowded world and completely against the spirit of bonsai not to do so. However, it is easy to be responsible while collecting bonsai specimens, even quite ancient ones, provided a few common-sense rules are followed.

First, it is absolutely necessary to have the landowner's permission before digging. Whether the land is private, state or federal don't even consider removing a tree until you have asked and gotten permission to do so. On state and federal lands, areas that are open to resource extraction, such as logging, mining and grazing will frequently also be open to restricted collecting, on a fee-per-tree basis. Areas where the management emphasis is more on recreation, wilderness, wildlife or spiritual values will likely not be open to collecting. Don't expect to be allowed to collect a tree alongside your favorite hiking trail. The tree is important where it is so that others can enjoy it. But a small, stunted tree in an area soon to be logged or control-burned might be another matter. You'll need to do a little research to find an area where collecting is legal. It will be worth your time. Stealing a tree risks the reputation of all of us.

Second, don't collect rare, threatened or endangered species. Even a tree that is common elsewhere, but rare where you found it, should be left alone. The best species to collect are the ones that are the most common. Usually they are common because they are adapted to a wide range of environments, which means they might adapt to a bonsai pot fairly easily. That said, what we want is a rarely shaped common tree! I collect a lot of ponderosa pine because there are many hundreds of millions of them where I live. And in fact, it's the most widely distributed pine in North America. But, even though it's quite common, only a minority of them has characteristics that will make good bonsai.

Lastly, just respect the land. Don't leave a mess, don't take them all, and don’t knowingly collect something that doesn't have at least a fighting chance for survival. On the rock outcrops where I usually look for bonsai only somewhere between one in a hundred and one in a thousand trees actually has the right type of root system to allow collecting. I feel good about that because no one -me included- could ever get them all. There will always be lots of beautiful old trees up there.

If you're ready to try collecting a tree on your own, let me now offer a few tips to improve your survival rate.

The first thing to remember is that in general you're not collecting a tree, you're collecting a root system, hopefully with a tree attached. The most stunning tree nature has to offer is nothing but a bitter disappointment if it just slowly dies after all your hard work. The top of the tree can be collected fairly intact, but the roots will need to re-establish themselves. Each species has slightly different requirements that will need to be discovered through experience.

There are some species, such as redwoods and bald cypress that can be collected without roots. This sounds too easy to me and I'm jealous of people who live where they can collect trees like this. I sometimes spend hours painstakingly trying to free every single, tiny root.

I always collect as many roots, especially the fine, fibrous roots that interact with the soil and do the work, as I can. And I don't just collect roots; I try and collect a root system that is as intact as possible. That is the main challenge in getting a tree to survive transplanting. I wash the roots with a hose when I get home so the tree is 60-70% bare rooted. Many of the trees I collect are growing in dense mats of their own decomposed needle litter, so it takes a little work to clean the root system without damaging it. I clean them so I can see light passing through in most places. Then I know water and air will pass as well. This noticeably increases survival.

I transplant my new tree in a mix of about 80% Turface and 20% crushed pine bark. Any aggregate, pea-sized to bb-sized will work instead of Turface. Turkey grit is fine. Akadama is better. I immediately water them well and then use Dyna-gro's KLN rooting mix for fertilizer.

Where I live it sometimes stays cold well into June, so I put as many trees as I can into my coldframes and heat them as necessary. I also use root-heating pads that keep the soil warm. I don't have room to do this for every tree, so I have to pick and choose. But I do it for as many as I can, and I definitely think it increases survival.

I have found that where I live survival is by far the highest for trees collected in mid-spring to early summer. If I have doubts about a tree surviving, then I will wait till then to collect it.

I leave as many trees as possible in my coldframes until I can see new growth. Usually this takes just a few weeks for the pines to most of the summer for the junipers. The white plastic gives the trees some shade and moderates the temperature. We spray the ceilings with water two or three times a day to keep the humidity up.

I check the pots every few weeks for evidence of new roots, and watch the tips of the foliage closely for new growth. It's more important to see new roots in the pot than it is to see new growth on the top, and once I see new roots I know the tree will almost always make it. Usually root and foliage growth occurs together, but once in awhile a tree will push out a little foliage without developing new roots. These ones don't often survive. On the other hand, trees that send out new roots without pushing any new foliage that year almost always do fine.

It will be spring again soon enough. Perhaps this would be a good year to start exploring your local landscape with bonsai on your mind. The tree you've been waiting for is out there somewhere, waiting for you. All you've got to do is find it. You can think of it as a quest. Good luck!