Artwork* Dedicated to Preservation of American Beeches

*Watercolor and Monotype images of beeches are one-of-a-kind. Artist’s Proof (AP) and Edition Variation (EV) images may be purchased either individually as displayed, or as a personalized, limited edition series. Proceeds from the sale of these images will support research to identify and propagate scale resistant, native American beech trees.

*Why Preserve American Beeches?

American beeches are late succession trees in our native forests. They are shade tolerant trees which play an integral role in forest ecology. Their nuts, for example, are eaten by a wide variety of wildlife who will suffer without them. Beeches are now being threatened with extinction by several different organisms. In the case of Beach Bark Disease, a fungus is responsible for the fatal infection but it only gains access through a puncture wound left behind by a native scale insect. The leaves of beech trees on the other hand, are under attack by a microscopic nematode whose invasion results in die-back, and ultimately death, of even mature beech trees.

At least in the case of the fungal disease, prevention is theoretically possible by selecting seed from, and propagating, those beeches demonstrated to resist scale. Since the fungus is unable to penetrate intact bark, such beeches would be able to survive in the presence of the fungus. Of course, dealing with the nematode infection is a separate and important battle needing to be addressed for enhancing the survival of our native beech trees.

“My Disappearing Beech Trees”

The poem below describes the progression of Beech Bark Disease. It was written by my husband, Don Herzberg, after he watched the grove of beeches on our property slowly succumb to the disease.

My Disappearing Beech Trees

 
 

1.

Back in ’87, rod straight beeches

had flawless bark like fabric draped tight.

Wind drifting through the leaves

would wash away their silence,

the soft sough reminding me

not all reverence is found in churches

nor all passions spurred by fair hair

or soul-deep doctrine.

 

But then change quietly came

in the form of scale, a small insect

boring through beeches’ steel gray skin

to feed beneath the bark. Fungus

found the doorways opened and

fed themselves till blisters broke

and spread like a pox, a plague.

 

I watched each canker crack and open,

stared as sting of disease worked its way

through the woods until all that stood

was nightmare.

 

2.

Think of cities’ street-bound homeless

bundled on sidewalks in blankets and decay –

after you've seen the tenth or twentieth

or one hundred and twentieth,

wrench of pain closes the heart’s valves,

won’t let blood bear its numbing news.

The mind looks for detours,

side roads easier on the eyes.

                       3.

Think of beeches, my beeches

standing fifty feet tall, a foot wide,

while somewhere inside me

they vanish.

 

  

 


by Don Herzberg - 5/2021