Loading...
August 19, 1999 - A fond farewell for a gentle giant8A a The Suffolk Times a August 19, 1999 A fond farewell for a gentle giant I've just returned from seeing the ter- rible damage the tornado did to that uniquely wonderful little hamlet of New Suffolk. It looked like I remember when past hurricanes struck: homes damaged, trees down, telephone poles broken, boats sunk, etc. And so with all FOCUS those heart- breaks, I hope ON you'll bear with NATURE me as you read the article I wrote by Paul just before the StoutenbuMh disaster this week of my old cherry tree that just gave up and came crashing down. Our property is a conglomerate of bits and pieces that we bought up years ago when lots were purchased for a few thousand dollars. It all worked out fine and we were able to get a few acres of woodland to act as a mini sanctuary in back of our house. To the east of that lit- tle woodland was the old original Billard farm on Skunk Lane. When we first moved here I noticed there was a slight berm or ridge of soil that sepa- rated the farmland from the woods. I was told that in the early days of farming when cows were an integral part of the farm, ditches, with their accompanying berms, provided a makeshift fence to keep the cows out of the fields. The trees that grew along this edge had the added advantage of more sun- light than the others and therefore grew larger. Most met their fate in the notori- ous '38 hurricane. I was a teenager then, so I remember it well. Few trees sur- vived that devastating blow. The ones that did grew huge. There was one par- ticular large oak I wrote about back in 1980 when it finally died and we had to cut it down. It was special in my mind because I was told by Clayton Billard, the original owner of the land, that it had housed an osprey nest for years. Another survivor was a large sour cherry tree that I'm sure mothered the many lesser sour cherry trees in the area. We sort of took that old giant for granted. I nailed bird houses to it, attached my fence to its curling gray bark and watched the sapsucker (a type of woodpecker) ring the soft bark with its neat line of fountain holes. Here it would come daily on its rounds and sip sap from the holes. Like a tattoo, these holes to this day can still be seen. I guess we shouldn't take things for granted, knowing there is an end to everything. Just a few days ago that magnificent cherry tree gave up and came crashing down during the night. (This was before the big storm.) There was no strong wind or terrifying light- ning to bring it down. Usually when big trees come down they bash everything in their way — trees, wires, homes, cars — and usually it's a mess. Not this time. I wish you could tree where this tree fell. It was as if the tree somehow knew how to go out gracefully, hurting no one. There was just a small window of space to the east and it landed there. We didn't hear it fall. As a matter of fact, I only noticed it the following day when I went out to give the cows some leftover corn from the Krupski's farm - stand. How completely devastated it looked, now in its awkward, unnatural position lying on the ground, limp and lifeless. it fell so that its huge trunk lay ORNAMENTAL PLANTINGS GREENHOUSE N.e�.wry LANE, G�ervrorcr anVil utterfly bushes are blooming once again at our little place 44 on a quiet lane. For the delight of butterflies and gardeners alike we offer 5 varieties: 'Black Knight,' 'Nanho Blue,' 'Pink Delight,' 'Sungold,' and 'White Profusion.' Growing over 300 select uarieties of perennials, ornamental grasses, herbs, seashore plants and antique roses North Road (Rte. 48) Perennials, I ORNAMENTAL Grasses, Herbs PLANTINGS GREENHOUSE Horses R.R. Bridge Lane Hours: Mon. - Thurs. 10 a.m. -3 p.m. a Fri., Sat., Sun., 10 a.m.- 5 p.m. 477 -2410 e 477 -2680 d r\ Suffolk Times photo by Barbara Stoutenburgh Death came to thousands upon thousands of small bunkers in Jockey Creek last week. Usually these fish kills are caused by lack of oxygen In the water. two feet above the ground so it was easy to walk up and try to put my arms around it to check its circumference. I couldn't reach all the way around. My fingers were 10 inches short of meeting. This was a big tree indeed. It had just lived too long and, like the "one horse shay," looked fine until everything went wrong and then it just couldn't hold itself up any longer, and toppled over. I looked it over carefully. From its base a two -inch grapevine had climbed to the very top and spread through its canopy. It, too, wanted to share in the sun's life - giving rays. On one of its dead limbs a woodpecker had hollowed out its nesting cavity while deep inside a mass of big, shiny black carpenter ants scurried about, their world suddenly shattered. I'll be anxious to see how many rings I can count when I cut it up. Well over 100, I imagine. The next day when I went to start cut- ting the tree up I realized how big it really was. My first job was to cut the small limbs off to make room for the real cutting. In the heat the sweat ran from my brow as I literally cut my way through the mass of green. Barbara helped pull the branches away and stacked them on the trailer. After about three hours of work and sun we both decided we'd had enough. Cows get last licks It was two days later before I got back to the tree. To my surprise every bit of greenery as high as the cows could reach was stripped of its leaves. Evidently there was something in the wilted cherry leaves that the cows needed and they denuded every branch. They also attacked the tender branch ends Barbara had stacked on the trailer and had literally pulled them off and spread them about in disarray. Now the stacking would have to be done all over again. I find if I get out early enough in the morning I can work in the coolness of the shadows, but by 10 the sun floods the area and it's time for me to call it quits. There was a fish kill in Jockey Creek this weekend. Only once before did I ever hear of a fish kill here on the East End and that was when the late Tom Reeve called and told me of thousands of big bunkers or menhaden that had died in the upper reaches of Mattituck Inlet back on Aug. 24, 1974. Actually it was where you see the boats moored today. What had happened was that a huge school of bunkers was probably chased in from the Sound by ravenous bluefish and later were trapped in water that was deficient in oxygen and died. What a mess! What a smell! But how could this happen? Like most phenomena in nature there is no simple or single answer. What we do know is that conditions were just right in the creek for a fish kill. A previous heavy rainfall could have caused heavy road runoff, washing lawn fertilizers and organic matter into the creek stimulat- ing growth; hot, humid days could have raised the water temperature, making conditions ideal for organisms to multi- ply in masses. They sometimes cause the water to change color to reds and browns and in the Mattituck case they described the water color as "like iced tea." As this plankton in the dinaflagel- late family grows older it becomes high- ly toxic and produces and participates in the mass death of fish. Still another rea- son could have been calm days on the water that might have prevented the addition of oxygen by wave action, which again would have caused the bunkers to die. Cooler weather, turbu- lent surface water and adequate flushing action eventually alleviate the problem. Just last week one of these fish kills occurred in Southold's Jockey Creek but to a lesser degree. This time instead of large adult bunkers, it was their off- spring, the small one- to two- inch -size young that died. Thousands upon thou- sands perished probably because of the lack of oxygen similar to what happened in Mattituck years ago. The only good part about this disaster was that they were small fish and therefore the cleanup was taken care of by an influx of gulls that gorged themselves on this new food abundance. On a much smaller scale and under entirely different circumstances, it was similar to the gulls that rescued the Mormons in their early beginnings when their crops were being devastated by locusts or grasshoppers. Here in Jockey Creek the gulls helped to clean up the bunkers while the gulls in Salt Lake City eliminated the locusts that were rav- aging the Mormons' crops.