I couldn’t offer anything but hypotheses. I’ve seen plenty of plants that have grown themselves into odd shapes, including some on your blog, but this was a new one. It certainly shows that recovery’s possible even after significant damage; let’s hope that’s true for the nation, too.
The more I look at it, the more it amazes me: not only that it recovered, but that the newly formed trunk is just as straight as the original. The curve in the limb that gave rise to the new growth is pretty interesting, too. Even at the time, I couldn’t figure out how it had formed.
It’s going to be fun watching it, to see what happens as the growth continues. I’ve wondered whether it might become top-heavy: so much so that the branch can’t support it. Time will tell.
But with copyright there could be trouble, trouble, trouble…
Wow! That’s an impressive swoosh. I’ve seen limbs on trees and woody shrubs which have curved, but that’s a deeper curve than any I’ve seen. Good find!!
I know about the Flying Spaghetti Monster and its followers (called Pastafarians) but I’ve never heard of flying tree snakes. Now I’m all up to speed. There even are people doing research on them. The world is filled with amazements, no question.
Maybe the next time I see this one, I should put a scarf around it! Of course, it may be a little warm by then. Perhaps some Mardi Gras beads would do the trick. You can tell your little tree about this one if it ever seems discouraged.
It’s in a spot with plenty of sunlight, so there’s no question it’s profited from that. And maybe surrounding trees have been encouraging it with calls of “Excelsior! Ever upward!” They may have reminded the little tree that if it didn’t adopt “Excelsior” as a guiding principle, it might end up as excelsior.
The tree was lagniappe, for sure. Knotty, gnarled, and misshapen can be as eye-catching as any garden, and I do enjoy these little oddities. There’s never any telling what nature will come up with next.
“The ones you seek went thataway”. One always wonders what caused some disfigurement like this. I’ve a favorite cedar in Acadia that did a 360° twist for no obvious reason (apparently from my pre-Linda days).
Like you, all I can do is label this one ‘mystery,’ and move on. I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation (or at least an explanation) but there’s no way to know for sure what happened. Like your twisted cedar, it’s enough to notice and enjoy.
Well spotted, Linda.
I don’t think I’ve seen any trees with weird shapes that high up. It’s usually the base of a tree.
I would also like to know how it got that way. I wonder if it was damaged when still a sapling and as it’s grown, its kept its crooked shape – only getting thicker in diameter.
So nice to see you, Vicki! I was thinking about you today while I was sitting at my desk, waiting to see if a robin I’ve been watching would come to the feeders so I could get its photo. I even had washed the windows — you know about that! I hope all’s going well for you, and that your health is good.
I hadn’t thought about damage as a sapling. That is a possibility, since there didn’t seem to be a place where a limb had broken off once it attained some height. It’s also true that the way the longleaf pine grows, it doesn’t put out side branches right away. When it begins getting taller, it just has a ‘fluff’ of needles on top. Perhaps that’s where the damage occurred.
In any event, I enjoyed finding it and showing it here.
Reminds me of all those saplings in the forests of the eastern seaboard and Appalachia that were bent in various ways by the Indians, the Natty Bumpo’s and the Daniel Boone set to serve as trail markers that then went on to grow that way — whence the Biblical reference, as the twig is bent, so grows the tree. I tried to read the Cooper novel, source of the film, once, but about the twentieth time he addressed me as “gentle reader,” (about five pages in, IIRC) I made a very ungentle remark, slammed the book shut and donated it to the Friends of the Library.
Your comment about ‘gentle reader’ made me laugh. It’s like using ‘friends’ as a general term of address. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does it grates a bit — it seems presumptive, especially if I’ve never met the person, or exchanged words online.
Your mention of Cooper brings to mind Giant. I bumped into an interesting conversation among Texans the other day about both the book and the film, and was surprised how many never had heard of it, let alone read or watched it. They should visit a library from time to time.
I feel like that sometimes – I have no idea where I am going!
I suspect you’re not alone, David. This year has been akin to wandering in the wilderness.
Any idea what caused the diversion?
Now if our country could only get back on track…
I couldn’t offer anything but hypotheses. I’ve seen plenty of plants that have grown themselves into odd shapes, including some on your blog, but this was a new one. It certainly shows that recovery’s possible even after significant damage; let’s hope that’s true for the nation, too.
I am surprised it survived.
Wouldn’t it be interesting to know how it was damaged? It certainly affirms the resilience of plants.
As we would say in Maine, that is some picture. Wowsah!
I couldn’t believe it when I first saw it. My first thought was, “They went that-away!”
I’ve never seen anything like it.
There once was a twisty old tree
that hoped that one person would see
the curve of its limb
like a natural hymn —
and behold! that one person was me.
And now you, too!
You bet! And many other blogging friends, I’m sure.
Too funny!
Isn’t it great? If you’re at Watson and take the boardwalk down to the pond, it’s on the right side, near the tree line.
I’ll try to remember that advice the next time life is twisting me around. That tree looks like it knows what it is talking about!
The more I look at it, the more it amazes me: not only that it recovered, but that the newly formed trunk is just as straight as the original. The curve in the limb that gave rise to the new growth is pretty interesting, too. Even at the time, I couldn’t figure out how it had formed.
That is a determined tree – whatever it has been through, it has kept trying!
It’s going to be fun watching it, to see what happens as the growth continues. I’ve wondered whether it might become top-heavy: so much so that the branch can’t support it. Time will tell.
I believe it stopped to smell the roses, realized it couldn’t reach them, and then kept on going.
Or maybe it was ‘pining’ for another longleaf to be friends with. It certainly looks like it might have tried to reach out and touch someone.
Unrequited love at the botanical level.
Even for a tree, it’s a little sad — but at least it got noticed by the wider world.
The sadder but wiser tree for me.
That sounds like it could be made into a song.
But with copyright there could be trouble, trouble, trouble…
Wow! That’s an impressive swoosh. I’ve seen limbs on trees and woody shrubs which have curved, but that’s a deeper curve than any I’ve seen. Good find!!
Isn’t it amazing? I love finding little oddities like this. Sometimes I can explain them, and sometimes I can’t, but they always bring a smile.
Very clever! I love how you see!
I couldn’t help seeing this one. I’ll tell you the truth, though. My first caption was, “They went that-away!”
Looks like one of those flying tree snakes! LOL
I know about the Flying Spaghetti Monster and its followers (called Pastafarians) but I’ve never heard of flying tree snakes. Now I’m all up to speed. There even are people doing research on them. The world is filled with amazements, no question.
This reminds me of my own tiny tree, Linda. Different species, to be sure, but every bit as determined to choose life! Great capture!
Maybe the next time I see this one, I should put a scarf around it! Of course, it may be a little warm by then. Perhaps some Mardi Gras beads would do the trick. You can tell your little tree about this one if it ever seems discouraged.
It’s responding to a higher power: The sun. The message might be, “Keep your eye on the light at the end of the tunnel.” –Curt
It’s in a spot with plenty of sunlight, so there’s no question it’s profited from that. And maybe surrounding trees have been encouraging it with calls of “Excelsior! Ever upward!” They may have reminded the little tree that if it didn’t adopt “Excelsior” as a guiding principle, it might end up as excelsior.
Ha! I’ve found some of its twisted cousins out on the trail. Nature is amazing.
“responding to a higher power” from commenter ‘Curt Mekemson’. Yes, I like that phrase just on its own. And a wonderful pic Linda!
The tree was lagniappe, for sure. Knotty, gnarled, and misshapen can be as eye-catching as any garden, and I do enjoy these little oddities. There’s never any telling what nature will come up with next.
Wow, what a find!
Isn’t it something? It’s like a bit of modern sculpture. If it were done in metal, it probably would be celebrated and sell for thousands of dollars.
I would imagine!
“The ones you seek went thataway”. One always wonders what caused some disfigurement like this. I’ve a favorite cedar in Acadia that did a 360° twist for no obvious reason (apparently from my pre-Linda days).
Like you, all I can do is label this one ‘mystery,’ and move on. I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation (or at least an explanation) but there’s no way to know for sure what happened. Like your twisted cedar, it’s enough to notice and enjoy.
Yup. Enjoyment is reason number one for being out there in the first place.
Well spotted, Linda.
I don’t think I’ve seen any trees with weird shapes that high up. It’s usually the base of a tree.
I would also like to know how it got that way. I wonder if it was damaged when still a sapling and as it’s grown, its kept its crooked shape – only getting thicker in diameter.
So nice to see you, Vicki! I was thinking about you today while I was sitting at my desk, waiting to see if a robin I’ve been watching would come to the feeders so I could get its photo. I even had washed the windows — you know about that! I hope all’s going well for you, and that your health is good.
I hadn’t thought about damage as a sapling. That is a possibility, since there didn’t seem to be a place where a limb had broken off once it attained some height. It’s also true that the way the longleaf pine grows, it doesn’t put out side branches right away. When it begins getting taller, it just has a ‘fluff’ of needles on top. Perhaps that’s where the damage occurred.
In any event, I enjoyed finding it and showing it here.
Reminds me of all those saplings in the forests of the eastern seaboard and Appalachia that were bent in various ways by the Indians, the Natty Bumpo’s and the Daniel Boone set to serve as trail markers that then went on to grow that way — whence the Biblical reference, as the twig is bent, so grows the tree. I tried to read the Cooper novel, source of the film, once, but about the twentieth time he addressed me as “gentle reader,” (about five pages in, IIRC) I made a very ungentle remark, slammed the book shut and donated it to the Friends of the Library.
Your comment about ‘gentle reader’ made me laugh. It’s like using ‘friends’ as a general term of address. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does it grates a bit — it seems presumptive, especially if I’ve never met the person, or exchanged words online.
Your mention of Cooper brings to mind Giant. I bumped into an interesting conversation among Texans the other day about both the book and the film, and was surprised how many never had heard of it, let alone read or watched it. They should visit a library from time to time.
Wow, how amazing!!!xxx