Ulmus americana, American Elm
Trees are magnificent parts of life. They take many forms, embrace a variety of climates, and endure so many storms. Trees provide air to breathe, canopies to shade, roots to hold soil, and branches to house wildlife. Not only are they magnificent, but they are essential.
A few years ago, I was asked the icebreaker question: what tree would you be? My first thought was the paper birch. We had one in the front yard of my childhood home. It’s lovely white velvety paper bark brushed off the dirt and weather each season as if it was peeling back and shedding the negativity of life. Birch was my mother’s favorite tree though. I needed my own.
The weeping willow crossed my mind next. I would love to think of myself dancing gracefully with the changing winds, flexible and strong. Then I remembered how clumsy and messy I can be at times, so the willow wasn’t quite the tree for me either.
What about a pine? Balsam fir. Oh, how I love the smell of a Balsam Christmas tree. But I wouldn’t call myself as hardy and prickly as a pine tree, nor that sappy either. I needed something strong, practical, adaptable, and hospitable, and that changed with the seasons. That’s when I found the American Elm.
Ulmus americana is, as you may have guessed, native to North America. It can be found in literally every state in the Continental US. The US Department of Agriculture describes the tree as “inconspicuous” in the spring and summer with seeds that “are quite popular with both birds and wildlife” (Gilman and Watson. Ulmus americana, American Elm Fact Sheet. 1994.). The bark is a deep, dark brown, contrasting the tree’s golden-yellow leaves that appear in the fall. Its subtle beauty and far-reaching shady branches make this a tree of refuge from the hot summer sun or a quiet retreat for reading or reflection. What interests me the most is the tree’s roots, stretching wide and shallow, often surpassing the tree’s branches that can reach up to 100 feet tall and 120 feet wide. Considering its popularity with wildlife, welcoming arms, benign appearance, ability to adapt to almost any environment, and vastly complex root structure guarded just below the surface of the soil, it was the perfect tree for me.
I drew the tree without its leaves to draw attention to the complexity of a tree’s construction but included warm jar lanterns to capture the welcoming nature of the tree.
Below the tree, I wrote, “dig deep, reach high, take in, let shine, brave storms, breach walls.” The American Elm can do all these things, and so can I.