Call This a Mini-Travelogue

Our trip to Ecuador in June (see my last post) was my first time back to my "second homeland" in almost exactly 40 years. I had a wonderful time getting re-acquainted with the country I knew as a boy and young man. (There was one frustration: I recognized so many trees and plants, but didn't know names for them other than local ones; and sometimes not even those.)

(No, this post isn't directly about bonsai, but the practice of bonsai arose out of love of the natural world, so it's not unrelated. Besides, this is my blog and I can post what I like! <wink> )

A bit of background, for any who don't know. Ecuador straddles the equator, on the bulge in northwestern South America. The Andes run thru the country, north to south, splitting it into three major zones: the wide coastal strip, the highlands, and the Amazon basin in the east. Partly because of such varied topography, Ecuador is ranked as one of the two most biodiverse countries on the planet.

One thing I was immediately reminded of, and that you will notice in many of my pictures: sunlight is noticeably stronger there, primarily because the sun's rays come in from directly overhead. In the highlands, add in the fact that as much as one-quarter of the Earth's atmosphere is below you, and you'll understand why the sunlight can be even more brilliant! The lower air density also means that light is diffused less, and so shadows there are deeper. Both those facts are evident in my first picture.

A street tree in Quito, Ecuador's capital; a decent natural slanter, don't you think?

My wife Princene under that tree. The inflorescence suggests a possible relationship to Chionanthus. 

Eucalyptus are widely planted in the inter-Andean Valley and were a significant source of firewood.
Few trees grow at this altitude without human intervention. 

The day after we arrived, we headed over the pass and down the slopes of the western cordillera to Santo Domingo de los Colorados, the city near which the Tsachila live.

Typical scenery in the middle and lower altitudes: ridges covered with cloud forest. Pasture grasses in the foreground.

The "Devil of Tandapi." Somebody had fun creating this!

This waterfall was one scene I particularly wanted my wife and daughter to see.

The main city plaza in Santo Domingo, very much improved since I was last there. (Kudos to the city.)
We were there at the beginning of the dry season, when overcast days are typical.

A palm tree in fruit in the Santo Domingo plaza.

After the interment service with the Tsachila, we headed for the coastal city of Same (SAH-meh) for some "unwind time."

The view out over the Pacific from our accommodations.

Looking south down the beach.

The tree with the buff inflorescence is teak (Tectona grandis), imported as a cash crop and widely naturalized.
I have yet to identify the mimosa-looking tree.

A coconut palm with a load of ripe fruit ...

... and my daughter demonstrates how to enjoy a fresh coconut!

The base of this native Ficus almost made me drool! I'm still trying to identify the species.
My brother and I found no remnants of a host tree, so I don't believe it's one the indigenous stranglers.

Not bonsai-related but worth a mention. If you're ever in Quinindé in Esmeraldas province, I recommend this place
without hesitation! Great food and enthusiastic service.

From Same we headed back to the highlands. Our first stop was Mindo, a town in the cloud-forest zone known for its commitment to ecotourism. (Not to mention some excellent coffee.)

The chonta palm (Bactris gasipaes, I think) is one of the most useful trees in the cloud forest and rainforest. The outer layer
of wood is very hard and strong, excellent for building as well as for spears, bows and arrows, and other implements.
The dried fronds are used for thatch. The fruit is so high in protein that when it's in season, a local bird of prey prefers it
to meat! And the inner pith is often home to a particular beetle grub which is quite tasty when lightly cooked.  

Epiphytes of various kinds cover a tree just outside Mindo.

Trails like this one are very familiar to me. During our first years in Ecuador there were few roads in our area.

This tree fern is about 15 feet high (about 4.5 meters.)

At the other end of the scale, tiny ferns and club mosses (Selaginella.)

A Cecropia tree growing as a natural bunjin.

Mindo boasts a butterfly farm with excellent visitor facilities. This Morpho's wingspan is greater than my handspan.

When the Morpho closes its wings, its camouflage appears. The large imitation eye, meant to discourage predators,
gives it its local name: ojo de búo, or "owl's eye." This one is feeding on a bit of mashed banana on my daughter's finger.

Back to higher altitudes. The view into an extinct volcanic crater, in the eastern cordillera of the Andes.

The next two pictures are of a native tree that, again, almost made this bonsaiist drool! It is a Polylepis, possibly Polylepis incana. The genus holds the record for the highest-altitude native range of any trees in the world; I took these pictures at about 11,500 feet (3,500 meters.)

The exfoliating orange bark is very eye-catching, and the trees are often contorted by the winds.
What I wouldn't give for a yamadori specimen!

Individual leaflets are about the size of my thumbnail; perfect scale already!

My brother is a falconer and the family ornithologist (no run-of-the-mill hobbies for the Moore boys!) I went with him to visit a raptor rehabilitation center near the city of Otavalo. The daily presentations for the public include the chance to hold an American kestrel on your hand. (The glove barely fit me.)

At the Mitad del Mundo, "Middle of the World," just north of Quito.  My wife is standing in the southern hemisphere,
I'm in the northern, and our daughter is either in both or neither - take your pick!
Princene broke her ankle in Same when she slipped on  wet tile. Give her credit: she didn't let herself slow the group down any more than she could possibly help. While we wish it hadn't happened, we're thankful for the cost of medical care in Ecuador!

The yellow-flowering tree is quite common in the Quito area. I'm still trying to identify the species of Araucaria;
I don't think it's A. heterophylla (Norfolk Island pine.)

More than half the cut roses sold in the USA are grown in Ecuador, in greenhouses like these near Baños.

A fairly typical rural scene in the inter-Andean valley. I think this crater is named Pasochoa.

Another street tree in downtown Quito.

The sun was rising as our flight back to the US got ready to depart.

At the interment service, one of the Tsachi men turned to me and my three siblings and admonished us, "Now don't you go back to your own country and forget us! You come back and visit us again." It was clear he was completely serious. Dios mediante - with God's aid - my family and I plan to do just as he asked in a couple of years.

:-)  :-)  :-)

I'm Back.

My parents passed away in 2013 and 2014, as I wrote of here and here. One of the things they asked of their four children was that their ashes be mingled and scattered in Ecuador at the site of the house we all most thought of as "home" during our time there. That house, in the rainforest in the western foothills of the Andes, was in the territory of the indigenous tribe for whom Mom and Dad translated the Bible. Those Indians call themselves the Tsachila (singular and adjective Tsachi,) and their language Tsafiki.

On May 31st of this year, my siblings and I, with our spouses and my daughter, gathered with some 50 or 60 Tsachila to carry out Mom and Dad's wishes. At the request of the Indians, we didn't scatter the ashes, but buried them in the Tsachi cemetery between the graves of two of their long-time friends. There were tears, of course, but it was also a wonderful day of remembrance and reunion. (There were people there whom I hadn't seen in more than 40 years.) Many things that were said and done that day would have meant at great deal to my parents; but what would have meant the most, I believe, was the sight of a Tsafiki Bible that was obviously very well used!

Primitivo, one of the church leaders, speaks of his memories of Mom and Dad
before he takes his turn pouring some of the ashes into the freshly-dug hole. (His name means "first" rather than "primitive.") 

  (Several men in this picture are wearing their hair in the traditional Tsachi style: cut as you see, then dyed with mu, the dye from the seed of the annatto tree (Bixa orellana.) Because of that custom, the Spanish-speaking population call them the "Colorados.")

It was a day of closure, as well. This was our last earthly service to our parents. We won't see them again until we all stand together in the presence of Jesus Christ, in glory I can't even imagine now! Meanwhile, we continue on with our own lives here.

And that brings me back to this blog. If I have any regular readers left, thank you! I'm ready to start writing again, as and when I have things to say, and I hope you will find it worth your while to read.

And while I haven't written about bonsai for a while, I've continued to do bonsai. Let me introduce you to one of my recent acquisitions: another yamadori ponderosa pine from Golden Arrow Bonsai. But first I must tell you that the ponderosa I had before, which I last wrote about here, didn't make it. I'm now fairly sure that when the drought of 2012 hit, I over-estimated the ability of Pinus ponderosa to withstand severe drought (especially when in a container) and didn't adjust my watering properly. (Ponderosa pine is adapted to semi-arid conditions, but it's not bullet-proof!) It's a bit of comfort to know that Andy Smith, owner of Golden Arrow Bonsai, was also blindsided by the drought and lost some trees.

I got this tree in May, in Andy's annual Burlap Bonanza. The  character of the lower trunk got my attention and was the deciding factor in my choice.

The tree as it arrived, minus the plastic that was also around the rootball for shipping. 

The rootball, complete with some sprigs of Black Hill grasses. Most of the native duff
is what has been called "compressed pine peat."

I've learned, when buying a yamadori tree, to prepare the growing box after I can see and measure the rootball. The box is made of "western red-cedar," Thuja plicata, which is fairly rot-resistant.

The drain holes are about 1 inch in diameter; there's a second row of them on the near side of the box. The eyelets
in the floor of the box are for tie-in wires, those on top of the uprights for guy wires.

 There's a single layer of 4.5-6 mm scoria particles in the very bottom. The rest of the substrate is a 7:1.5:1.5 mix of scoria, Turface, and chopped bark, all particles between 3 and 4.5 mm; and there is a 1/4-inch top dressing of 2-3 mm particles, scoria and Turface in equal proportions.

All potted up!

Here's the probable front of the tree. At this point I envision a bunjin design moving to the right.

The handles on the end of the box cost less than $2 apiece at a local DIY store, and have turned
out to be a better idea than I anticipated. All 4 fingers of one of my hands fit into one comfortably.

A closer view of the base and lower trunk. I expect to keep the left-pointing dead branchlet as a jin,
but the dead spur sticking up behind the shoots on the right will be removed.

The tree will spend the next two years, at least, recovering from collection and acclimating itself to its new home. Then I'll start thinking seriously about the design.

(By the way, many of my readers will be more familiar with annatto than they realize. Also called "achiote" in Spanish, it is used fairly widely as a condiment and as a food coloring: your cheddar cheese is probably colored with it.)

:-)  :-)  :-)

Continuing a Transformation

     Remember the  yew that Mark Fields used in his demonstration at this year's Mid-America Bonsai Show in August? It's a Japanese yew, Taxus cuspidata, and Mark performed what is often called "creation styling:" the first big step in turning an unshaped plant into a bonsai. I wrote about it three posts back, in "The Year of the Yew."

Go ahead and click on the link to refresh your memory; it will help you appreciate what Mark has done with the tree since. (The link will open a new window; just close that window when you're done and you'll be right back here.)

Mark didn't have time to complete the creation styling (the staff had to get the auditorium ready for the next demonstrator,) but he still did enough that his audience could see clearly the broad strokes of his intended design. He finished after he got home, and last week he kindly sent me an updated picture of the tree. Here it is. I think you'll agree that Mark did an excellent job.

Japanese yew, Taxus cuspidata. Owner and artist, Mark Fields. Photo by Mark Fields.

The pot to which the tree is wired is the one it will go into next spring. I presume the planting angle will be what we see in the picture. You can see where Mark cut off what is now the top of the plastic container, and the sphagnum he used to cover the newly-exposed roots there for the time being. You can also see the mesh he put over what was the top of the container to keep the soil in place.

For any readers who are new to bonsai, let me make a point. The work Mark did on this yew was quite extensive, and major pruning and wiring are to a plant as major surgery is to a human: in a word, traumatic. You'll notice in my "before" picture, in the "The Year of the Yew," that this tree was very healthy and well established. I'm sure Mark made sure of that before he decided to use it as his demonstration tree. And I'm just as sure that for the next several years he will focus on rebuilding the tree's strength and vigor, even as he starts on the process of refinement. My point: always be sure a tree is strong enough to handle a major operation before you start, and then be sure to give it enough time to recover afterward.

And I'm now looking forward even more to one day seeing this tree on display!

:-)  :-)  :-)

Mid-America Bonsai Show 2014, Part 5. Some Other Fine Trees.

     As best I can estimate, there are over 150 bonsai in the Exhibit at the Mid-America Show every year. Here are a few more pictures of this year's, with owner/artist names if I have them.

Willow-leaf fig, Ficus salicaria.

This is by far the largest willow-leaf fig composition that I've seen outside of the stock of a Florida-based vendor! What's potentially even more impressive is that it was entered in the Novice class: if the owner has done most of the work himself/herself, there's a major new talent on the scene.

It's not finished yet; look up into the inside of the canopy and you'll see there's more work yet to do. But it's quite presentable. Give it another 5-10 years and it just might take Best-of-Show!

Scots pine, Pinus sylvestris. Mark Fields.

The picture doesn't show it too well, but there are several twists in the middle trunk that add visual interest. The character of the pot is unconventional but quite a good match to the tree. And the accent plant's look contributes to the presentation's overall impression of wildness. (Picture a remote and craggy hillside in the Scottish Highlands.)

Mountain hemlock, Tsuga mertensiana.

The small foliage of the hemlocks (Tsuga) makes them good candidates for bunjin (a.k.a. literati.) This artist, whoever he or she is, has made good use of that fact. I especially enjoy the dogleg in the trunk!

Veldt fig, Ficus burtt-davyi; willow-leaf fig, F. salicaria; suiseki. Scott Yelich.

This 3-point display by Scott Yelich is just plain good. Notice the balance among the three elements. I think the choice of pot color for the main tree helps make the whole presentation exceptional.

Hornbeam, Carpinus spp. Chicago Botanic Garden (I think.)

Here's a tree with individuality!  It might be a little difficult to assign this bonsai to a traditional style, but doesn't it look like so many trees you've seen in the landscape? This tree succeeds at something fundamental - reflecting the image of a full-sized tree - and it does so very well.

Ponderosa pine, Pinus ponderosa; Spruce, Picea spp. (accent.) Andy Smith.

Andy indulged his whimsical streak a bit in this composition. It's hard to see in the picture, but at the base of the ponderosa is a figurine of a dog; and in front of it, set flush with the moss, is a small stone with a hollow like a basin. The basin was filled with water, and presto! - an alpine meadow in miniature!

Elm, Ulmus spp. Possibly Mark Fields.

The handsomely mottled bark is what draws my eye most to this tree; and the pot's color and lack of elaboration both serve to highlight that bark. Notice, too, the taper and the ramification.

Juniper, Juniperus spp. Jim Doyle.

Jim Doyle, of Nature's Way Nursery, lost his wife Mary Kay to cancer at the beginning of June. I don't recall ever meeting the lady, but from all I've read, I don't think she would have wanted Jim to miss the Mid-America. This was Jim's tribute to her: a tasteful, well-composed, and artistically excellent presentation, with a picture of Mary Kay on the miniature easel in the center. Enough said by me, other than "Rest in peace, Mary Kay."

As always, I spent a bit of time admiring some of the trees in the Chicago Botanical Garden's own collection.

Narrowleaf firethorn, Pyracantha angustifolia. Donated by Jack Thompson. 

Here's another very good example of a bonsai that is balanced without being symmetrical. On top of that, I'm impressed by the technical skill it took to develop that root system.

Ponderosa pine, Pinus ponderosa. Donated by the Midwest Bonsai Society.

Aside from the fact that I am partial to ponderosa pines, this is one heckuva well-styled and impressive specimen. I have no idea how old it is, but several hundred years wouldn't surprise me. This is another one that I visited more than once.

'Boulevard' falsecypress, Chamaecyparis pisifera 'Boulevard.' I couldn't make out the donor's name in my picture.

For those like forest plantings, this is a pretty good one.

And finally, when you walk out the main doors of the Regenstein Center in late afternoon, this is what you may see. (But be aware that my picture, pleased as I am with it, still doesn't do the reality justice!)

From the bottom of the steps in front of the main entrance to the Regenstein Center.

:-)  :-)  :-)