Thoughts
For over two centuries, elders of the Alabama-Coushatta Indian tribe of Texas have been carefully weaving baskets made of pine needles. While patient craftsmanship is a requirement, so is a certain kind of material: a needle long and durable enough for the task. This weaving tradition has weathered the test of time, being passed down through generations, as has the other key component: the longleaf pine tree.
Known as “the tree that fire built,” the longleaf pine used to dominate a large percentage of the United States’ forestry landscape. That was, of course, until it was virtually decimated as a species, with upwards of 90% of its ilk harvested for prime pine lumber. The particular attraction to this tree was not its aesthetic knots or mere workability, but a curious characteristic that differentiated it from its leafy neighbors: fire resistance. Wildfires have long been a very natural and cyclical occurrence. When people started paying attention, they began noticing that the longleaf pine tree would weather a fire and emerge unscathed. Grass, shrubs, and other trees consumed amidst a sooty wasteland, these stoic pines remained. This made these trees a hot commodity for construction.
Like other trees, the longleaf pine requires plenty of sunshine to grow big and tall. It begins as a grassy root ball, sitting low on the canopy floor, waiting patiently while scheming competitors reach their limbs into prime gaps to grab those tasty rays. But every once in a while, the forest dries out, and a lightning strike ignites a fire. The ravaged forest floor blackens, clearing out undergrowth and depositing loads of nutrients into the soil. The forest lifecycle is not for the faint of heart, and the young longleaf pine ball is anything but that. Fires trigger a chemical reaction in the nascent shrub to ramp up its growth. From the ashes, the plant shoots up, harvesting the nutrient-dense soil and relishing the newfound airspace in the canopy. As the forest returns, the longleaf stands the victorious phoenix.
For this tree, growth requires death.
Our lives are often in need of pruning. The image of fire used to purge the dense undergrowth can even sound appealing at times. But as society has culled forests in favor of freeways and the word wildfire has become a feared annual headline, the whole process can be a bit scary.
Many have said that fire cannot be categorized as either good or bad, rather as simply an agent of change. But anyone who’s dealt with fire in any capacity knows that it can be dangerous, painful, and destructive. So we must proceed with caution.
The longleaf pine has made quite the comeback in the last few decades, restoring it not to its once dominant position in the landscape, but at least to a position of “healthy and thriving species.” Forestry conservation services across the southeastern United States have dedicated thousands of acres to restoring the tree to its former glory. But if it’s “the tree that fire built,” how do they go about this? They don’t shy away from what was once natural: Controlled burns are used to prune the acreage, and every year some unhealthy trees are also harvested to keep the herd in check.
Controlled burns are still dangerous. There are variables in timing, wind, and weather, just to name a few. But they are effective.
The longleaf pine is a beautiful illustration of a hearty competitor. One who persists amidst the cycles of growth, death and restoration. It doubles down when things get tough. It embraces its environment for nourishment rather than bristling or hiding away. And its needles can continue to be harvested, to be crafted into beautiful creations and facilitate the continued tradition of a people.
Long before we lived in Mellencamp’s little pink houses, wildfires cyclically ravaged and restored landscapes without anyone setting an eye on them. With our insulated cities and scalding hot asphalt, we’ve made our lives as flame retardant as possible. But the undergrowth persists. The weeds find purchase in the cracks, and scheme to strangle out others for water and light. The most sought after growth is stifled by unsatisfying competition.
Sometimes, we may just need to find a match.
Until next time,
Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. -John 12:24-25
Happenings
🔊 On Speaker
Noah Kahan recently released the deluxe version of his incredible album: Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever). It delivered. Sometimes a deluxe doesn’t enhance the album as a whole, but this one feels complete. Now I’m just looking forward to hearing it all live this fall.
Forrest Frank, or more popularly known for his role as one half of the group Surfaces, released a solo album called California Cowboy. I’ve always loved his ability to make an album a start-to-finish listen—one with interludes and cadence that is best served on play rather than on shuffle. He brings the energy of Surfaces to personal stories in a brilliant way.
📚 On the Shelf
I recently read Ishmael, or “In the Depths” by E.D.E.N Southworth, after it was recommended by a friend. It feels a bit like Jane Austen meets Little House on the Prairie. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know our protagonist, Ishmael, and was thrilled to learn that the book is not a standalone story, but that there’s more. This shouldn’t spoil anything, other than the fact that when you’re 30 pages from the end and wondering how things will possibly wrap up—they don’t all need to.
I spent six Thursday mornings on Bayshore Boulevard in Tampa reading and discussing Zach Elliot’s Now I See: An Invitation to Life to the Full. There’s few better experiences than progressing through a book while visiting with the author each week, eliciting discussion from a variety of readers who view the text through different lenses. Quickly, Zach’s powerfully well-read background emerges in playful and rhythmic prose that carries throughout the book. The vision he has in his heart and his ability to share with others is not something you want to miss.
🍷 On the Table
Caliveda - Pinot Noir - 2021 This has been one of my favorite high-value finds in the California reds category. Coming in at ~$16, this medium-bodied Pinot stands up to many competitors in the $20-$40 range. It’s perfect when you don’t want something too big—it can stand alone as well as it can accompany. It doesn’t get lost in pairings where other cabs would work, either. Find a bottle near you and let me know what you think!
Thank you for reading, I sincerely appreciate it. I would love to hear from you, whether it be your thoughts on anything above, or any recommendations on food, wine, books, etc. that could find their way into a future issue. Or simply drop me a note to say hello! Reach me at writejohnduffy@protonmail.com - I look forward to hearing from you.
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