In summer 1984, a very narrow storm, probably a tornado, lurched through our rural neighborhood, including our yard. A tall hackberry tree at the edge of the woodlot toppled and pulled up a root plate of soil about 8 feet high by 12 feet wide by 2 feet thick. 

Minutes into the steep climb, it’s clear I’ve become soft over the winter. Shouldering 4 gallons of water in my backpack pump, a drip torch in one hand, and the other a three gallon water jug, I heed the protest of my body and slow my pace. 

While any tree planting will sequester some carbon by taking carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere, the volume of growth of little trees is so small that it doesn’t accomplish much in its early years. 

What a treat seen frolicking around the wooded area east of the Birds in Flight sculpture…meet the tufted titmouse (Baeolophus bicolor), the chickadee’s charming cousin! These little ones are birds of the woodlands (and suburbs with mature trees), where they nest in cavities abandoned by woodpeckers.