My Little Trees
YES, they are still out, my little trees. Thriving, surviving, adapting, hardening their roots for the season to come. They will survive that season as well. And spring will come, with new light, new life, and new growth.
YES, they are still out, my little trees. Thriving, surviving, adapting, hardening their roots for the season to come. They will survive that season as well. And spring will come, with new light, new life, and new growth.
THERE ARE A NUMBER of goals or concepts in the world of bonsai. Beauty. Grace. Symmetry. The interweaving between between nature and living art. And things that are harder to describe. Part of it is recreating in miniature the effect of a large, old tree. Weathered and bent, perhaps, but still strong. I rescued this little juniper, now about 10”
THIS LITTLE BONSAI—a Chinese Elm—has been struggling through an attack by a nasty fungus, lasting all summer. It’s lost a lot of leaves and some vigor, and I regularly tend it and treat with fungicides. It is hanging in there and new growth is appearing. Sometimes—just like our people and our pets—our plant and tree friends need extra care and
OF A WARM summer evening, Simon the elder cat takes his ease on the deck—overlooking bonsais and petunias and even allowing me to rest for a spell in my grandad’s Adirondack chair. While the Buddha sits in the light of understanding among sheltering trees, and ponders the infinities.
GOOD BONSAI MORNING. Of all my little trees, this one stands out in a special way. A juniper trained in the ‘cascading’ style, it flows like a green waterfall. It reminds me of the beautiful little trees we find in the Canoe Country and all over the Canadian Shield, growing from rocky shorelines and cliff faces, often from the smallest
AFTER A WEEK of travels and adventures, it is a very bonsai morning here at the Church O The Pines cabin. And I am enjoying a few quiet moments with this little favorite. (Well, they’re all favorites). This one happens to be a white cedar, very similar to the beautiful trees we see along the rocky shores in northern Minnesota
ON THESE cold January days, slaving away in the Writing Porch, sometimes one needs a little company. A Forest Kitten perhaps, curled up by the computer. Some smiling orchids in the corner. Or maybe a little tree, a recent rescue, just to watch over thiings and say, “All is well. Roots, rocks, green and living boughs… such things abide, whatever
IT IS THE TIME of year for garage cleaning. Actually it’s past that time of year but this is when I’m doing it. Getting things ready for winter. One of the things I do is make sure my bonsais are ready to survive and thrive through the cold months. When I post pictures in the summer, many have asked about
SUNDAY IS a good day to care for bonsais. Perhaps to admire them from my Grandad’s old green-painted Adirondack chair, over 60 years old. This little tree, in a semi-windswept style, reminds me to bend with the winds and storms of life. That being ‘big’ isn’t the most important thing. That being your truest, best self is a good definition
EVERY BONSAI, like every person, has its own character and personality. This little boxwood, only nine inches tall, conveys strength and balance; and almost pulls off the illusion of a mighty deciduous tree—an oak perhaps—on a green hilltop.