Life-giving rainfall seems to be feast or famine at Roundrock. The trees I have planted can’t rely on me to visit regularly and water them, so they must depend on what falls from the sky or what they can find in the ground. We knew this when we planted our many trees, so if they succeed or fail, we accept what comes.
And so we resigned ourselves to the failure of two cypress trees we had planted in good soil near the lake several years ago. These weren’t nursery bought but volunteers that had come up in our suburban back yard. (We have two large, happy cypress trees there.) Although these Roundrock transplants had made comebacks in past springs, they would lose all of their leaves by mid-summer and remain sticks through the winter, and they showed no signs of return this spring.
The problem, of course, is water. Our idea was that these two trees would rise by the shore of the full lake, and their roots would reach to the nearby water to keep the tree nourished. The lake didn’t cooperate, as long-time readers of this humble blog know. As the water line receded, the trees’ chances did as well.
But the cycle begins again, as you can see above. Amidst all of the green jumble in the photo, you can just maike out some pale, wispy leaves just about at the center. Those emerged unexpectedly from the forsaken stalk of the presumably dead cypress, telling me that there is life in the old stick yet. They’ve made their appearance late in the season, but there they are.
This was the year the lake achieved a full pool (though only briefly, but that’s a different lament), so this cypress, the one close to the water line, seemed to bounce back and show a bit of its potential. The sickly green of the leaves tells me that it wasn’t much of a bounce, but the stick lives and there is some hope.
- Eastern bluebirds begin third (last) nesting.