On Saturday 10/25, I visited Observatory Park in the afternoon with my mom. She was in town, so I wanted to show her the park that I have been going to throughout the past couple months. This time, I explored mostly on the far north side of the park whereas during my other visits I have focused mostly on the south. This side differs from the other because it is comprised almost entirely of pine trees and is free of the oak trees that fill the rest of the park's perimeter. The difference was more apparent now than in the past because the dark green of the pines contrasted the yellows, oranges, and reds of the other trees whose leaves were changing. Pine trees to not change color in the fall because they keep their needles year round, thanks to the waxy coat that they have which retains moisture and protects them from the cold.
"It was as if this one plant with its host of lives was a society, one in which moment by moment, depending on light and moisture, there was great and diverse change."
-Hogan
In Linda Hogan's Walking, she focuses on a sunflower and the intricate society that grows within it. The sunflower, larger than the rest, caught her eye and she passed it often, admiring its details and all the lives that existed within it throughout the summer. Like Hogan, my attention was drawn to a single plant that I have followed and specifically paid close attention to during each of my visits to Observatory Park. While Hogan was intrigued by a sunflower that was larger than the rest, I have been curious about a large oak tree on the southwest corner by the baseball field whose leaves turned yellow before any other tree in the park. During this visit, I saw the leaves to have finally all fallen off. Following its timing of changing color first, it also was the first to lose all its leaves. I have watched the progression of this tree through its fall cycle over the past two months and seen how this tree and every other tree in this park its own being is and houses its own society. This tree is constantly changing and living its life both in and out of harmony with its surroundings and the organisms that call it home. Throughout my visits I have watched squirrels play in the branches and eat acorns while perched on the trunk. I have seen birds come and go from the arms of the tree as they please. But the most eye opening for me in understanding how this tree is a host of life both of its own life and of others is in the stress that I see it endures through its early timeline in losing its leaves. Humans often separate themselves from nature as a part of the Western thinking that we have been exposed to, but we too are nature and nature is us. As John Muir knew, we are like trees in our facing of small challenges that rock us and then we return again to normal. And, as Linda Hogan pointed out with the sunflower, nature is filled with societies that lay just under our noses, yet we often overlook. I have seen these ideas through this tree who hosts organisms and exhibits signs of stress. Humans and trees alike are products of nature who live their individuals lives each day and experience the challenges that come with that.