Tree Snag and Lichen

Tree snag

Seeing some of the posts in my Reader, I’ve been suffering snow envy… just a little, much as I’d like any seasonal snow cover to be. To try to assuage these feelings, I’m sharing this scene from one of our visits to Dunham Massey’s winter garden near Manchester, while it had a smattering of snow.

On our travels, my sweetheart and I look out for attractive tree snags to point out to each other (then he spends some time bemoaning the fact that he cannot add it to the small stumpery in his garden). I’m not sure this snag qualifies as scenic, despite the golden light. If I was tempted to anthropomorphise, which is perhaps not the thing to do with this particular snag, I’d be forced to say it doesn’t look too happy to find itself in this state.

I am sure a close study would reveal plenty of life taking advantage of the decay. When insects examine the woodwork before checking in to a natural insect hotel, they apply different criteria than we humans might – rotten old tree trunks are as ritzy as it gets for some life forms.

Lichen

Seeing the decorations and lights festooning homes and buildings then helping to put up Mum’s Christmas tree last night have made me appreciate this lichen covered branch in a different light. It’s been silvered and tinselled by Mother Nature. The chalky colours might at one time have seemed drab, but as I look more closely, I’m fascinated by the subtle shades of blue, green and copper. If I were an insect, this would be the hotel I’d choose.

After this, we should perhaps have one more look at last year’s blornaments.

Note: I’ve been having some intermittent issues with my newly updated Safari browser that prevents me from liking or commenting on posts. If you’ve missed me calling by, I’m sorry. I have learnt that if you find yourself signed out by WordPress when visiting a blog and click in the comment box at the foot of the post, a blue W (WordPress logo) appears below the comment box, beside the Twitter and Facebook symbols. Clicking on the W logo should sign you in and allow you to comment. You have to be visiting the blog itself, not in the Reader. Weirdly, this will still not allow you to like the post.

Update: I’ve changed to Firefox, which is working fine. Fingers crossed!

33 thoughts on “Tree Snag and Lichen

  1. Vicki says:

    I’ve had trouble with WordPress in the last 2-3(?) days also. I’ve been Googling trying to find out how to stay logged in to WordPress, but no luck. Maybe I’ll wait until the New Year as I’d intended having a break from blogging and blog reading anyway 🙂

  2. julieallyn says:

    Love the photos. Hubby will occasionally join me on my photography forays, which I truly welcome and enjoy, but sometimes only the solitary outing will do! I can take all the time I want, meandering about, taking it all in without worry or concern about him being impatient. Fortunately though he seldom, if ever, is! Anyway – ramble, ramble! – I’m happy you and your sweetie enjoy your searches – and your discoveries. 😀

  3. Oddment says:

    You may have snow envy but I have name envy; you have such grand names there. I suppose some of them did land over here, but still you have the more enviable — like Dunham Massey. I have no idea what it means, but I am charmed by it. As for anthropomorphising (not that we know anyone who would), if one were to engage in such a thing, one would have to admit that this poor snag does not look happy at all, having landed face first in the muck with his arms frozen mid-flail. The obvious consequence of too much Burl Ives.

    You are so right about the lichen tinsel — it is very festive!

    Thank you many times for reminding me about blornaments! I enjoyed them all over again! I don’t yet have the skill for blornamenting, but I’m working on it.

    • susurrus says:

      It never occurred to me that Dunham Massey might have a meaning, but I looked it up. Dun = hill, ham = homestead and the Massey bit is a name related to a place name (of Mascey) that came over with William the Conqueror – if we are to believe all we read!

      You see all I see in the snag – the wail, the extended arm…

  4. dawnkinster says:

    Love your stump AND your lichen! When we were kids the family took two week vacations in our truck camper, winding out west most of the time. We’d go to all the ranger talks at night, and one year, I swear, every one of the talks started out with a description of lichen. It became a family joke and I still remember that trip now more than 50 years later. And I have to tell that story every single time I see a lichen photo. Makes me feel a bit old now that I think about it. So I won’t.

    • susurrus says:

      I can imagine you all laughing… or rather, trying not to laugh! We made a new family memory on Christmas day, trying unsuccessfully to do a Mickey Mouse charade as instructed by one of the slips of paper in our crackers.

  5. derrickjknight says:

    You have highlighted the sculptural effects of fallen trees and lichen. The only way I have found to resolve the like problem is to go back to the reader and click the like star under the alert picture. My name then appears on a list.

    • susurrus says:

      Thanks for the tip, Derrick. I wish it was easier to browse back through someone’s posts in the Reader. You would think that would be a simple and logical addition to make.

      • tonytomeo says:

        That does not necessarily need to be a bad thing though. It is fun to crave a few things. (Perhaps ‘envy’ is a bad word.) Craving for the unfamiliar is partly why I enjoy traveling. I actually saw a little bit of snow in Oklahoma . . . and found why those who are familiar with it do not believe that it is worthy of envy.

        • susurrus says:

          No, you’re right. We actually have snow forecasted nearby for tomorrow night with cold blustery winds, so it’s another case of being careful what you wish for.

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