Although most trees lose their leaves just a few at a time, the leaves of gingko trees drop in synchrony, over the span of a day or two.
My two granddaughters are Sierra and Brooke, wonderful names that connect them to nature.
When you look at the cross section of the trunk of an old tree, you see that it has two zones: the sapwood, which is the younger wood that’s closest to the bark — and the heartwood, which is the darker, central part of the trunk.
If you visit the great cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris, you’ll note its tremendous height and expansive interior spaces, all hallmarks of the Gothic style of architecture. But they only exist because of one structural support: “flying buttresses.”
On a recent trip to the airport, I noticed one of those tree-shaped air-fresheners dangling from the rearview mirror, the driver's effort to sweeten the car air with the aroma of pine trees.
The other day, as I lugged home 300 pounds of apples from my neighbor’s yard, I thought about the purpose of fruit.
Local street fairs celebrate the character of neighborhoods all over the country, from the Snowy Owl Market in Maine’s Presque Isle to the Solano Stroll in Berkeley, California.
On an early morning run along a city bike path, I was surprised to see a pickup truck that was slowly patrolling the trail.
Peach season is here! A first bite into one of those luscious orange globes is a high point of our tree harvests.
Willow trees are wonderful. They take root easily and grow remarkably quickly. But their life spans are short, evoking the motto that James Dean made famous: "Live fast, die young."
In the four decades that I’ve studied treetop biology, I’ve always focused on canopy-dwelling plants. But forests also support a fascinating array of arboreal animals.
The Mediterranean diet, one of our healthiest eating plans, draws upon plenty of fruits and vegetables. But the real hero of that diet is the olive tree.
Nearly 250 years ago, our country adopted the American bald eagle as our national bird, giving it a place on the Great Seal of our country.
I'm curious about the cup of coffee you had this morning. Which of the many coffee-making devices did you use?
As an ecologist, my conservation projects have drawn on scientific studies of forest inventories and genetics.
When I was a kid, my father built a magnificent tree house, 60 feet high, nestled in the airspace between two trees in our backyard.
My father, who was born and raised in India, liked to tell my siblings and me how he brushed his teeth as kid. He’d walk outside, snap off a twig of his backyard Neem Tree — and chew on it!
“Black locust” sounds to me like either a great name for a TV drama or a terrible plague I’d flee to avoid.
Although I'm of an age and a profession that doesn't require me to use a lot of cosmetics, I do admit to dabbing on a bit of lipstick when I attend the occasional gala or fancy dinner.
I bet you can identify these logos: the swoosh, the golden arches, the apple with a missing bite.
Nearly 250 years ago, our country adopted the American bald eagle as our national bird, giving it a place on the Great Seal of our country.
I recently visited some friends who built a lovely wooden home at the edge of a forest glade.
My favorite Beatle is Ringo. As a tree-lover, I've long wondered which wood this famous drummer chose for his drumsticks and what other percussionists use.
We know that when it comes to people, unassuming doesn’t mean uninteresting. The same holds true for trees.
I’ve often been called a tree-hugger. But I know that getting anywhere near the poisonous Manchineel tree is a very bad idea.
We’ve all seen beautiful pieces of wood crafted by sculptors into artistic shapes. But have you ever heard of arborsculpture?
I think of sawdust as a by-product of woodworking, kind of a nuisance that I have to sweep up and dispose of after a session in the woodshop.
The messiest laboratory I have ever seen is the prep room of the Center for Tree-Ring Science at Missouri University.
Our country has over 150 million telephone poles — that's half a pole for every person!
A few years ago, I decided to learn to how to skateboard, much to the embarrassment of my then-teenage children. They requested that I go to the skatepark in disguise to avoid being recognized by their friends.
Every year, my family takes an afternoon to drive out to the Tintic Mountains to choose our holiday tree.
Given the biological purpose of mistletoe, it's pretty strange that this parasite is also a symbol of love.
On September 11, we remember the terrorist attacks at the World Trade Center, which took place 22 years ago. One way to commemorate that event is through the messages that trees can communicate to those who survived.
Peach season is here! A first bite into one of those luscious orange globes is a high point of our tree harvests.
People have used cork for millennia. It's light, buoyant, and elastic, thanks to the 40 million air cells that occupy each cubic inch. Today, we use cork for fishing floats, floor tiles, and of course, bottle stoppers.
Willow trees are wonderful. They take root easily and grow remarkably quickly. But their life spans are short, evoking the motto that James Dean made famous: "Live fast, die young."
When I was a kid, my father built a magnificent tree house, 60 feet high, nestled in the airspace between two trees in our backyard.
When you look at the cross section of the trunk of an old tree, you see that it has two zones: the sapwood, which is the younger wood that’s closest to the bark — and the heartwood, which is the darker, central part of the trunk.
We think of trees as belonging in the wildlands of our country. But over five billion trees live in the urban forests of our cities.
Would you rather shop in a business district set on tree-lined streets, or in an area without trees?
Many cultures and religions celebrate the Tree of Life. But trees also have deep associations with death. People all over the world have laid their dead to rest inside of caskets and coffins made of wood, a tradition that traces back to the burial boxes created in ancient China and Egypt.
When we describe trees, we generally focus on their solid place within a landscape. For an exact description, we measure the size and shapes of their trunks, their foliage and their flowers.
On a road trip last week, I counted the number of different types of cars that whizzed by, responding to that human urge to tally the diversity around us.
What’s the first thing you do when you get into your car after it’s been sitting in the hot sun all day? Open the windows! Well, trees also need windows in their trunks and branches to let air circulate.
Although juniper trees are the most widely distributed tree species in the world, they’ve never won first prize for being the biggest or tallest tree.
The roots of Arbor Day began over 150 years ago in like an unlikely spot: Nebraska City, Nebraska, heart of the Midwest, where the habitat is treeless prairies.
The baobab tree has many intriguing nicknames: the camel tree, the bottle tree, the upside-down tree and the Tree of Life.
Take a look at the packet of disposable chopsticks you get with your next order of sushi — you know, the snap-apart kind, tucked in a paper sleeve. These throwaway chopsticks are clean and convenient, but they contribute to a bento box of environmental problems.
Spring is here, the time when the sap in trees is rising. So, let’s think about the making of maple syrup!
People tend to venerate extremes — the tallest waterfall, the oldest living person, the longest snake in captivity.
No chocolate fan has to wonder why the scientific name of the cacao tree translates from the Greek to "the food of the gods."
I’ve often been called a tree-hugger. But I know that getting anywhere near the poisonous Manchineel tree is a very bad idea.
Our country has over 150 million telephone poles — that's half a pole for every person!
It’s hard to know exactly when humans started using bark cloth, but it’s likely that it predates weaving. Historians have found examples of bark cloth from across the Pacific, Indonesia, Africa and Asia.
We know that when it comes to people, unassuming doesn’t mean uninteresting. The same holds true for trees.
The diversity of tree species in tropical forests is mind-boggling. Costa Rica alone hosts nearly 2,000 types of trees!
One of my favorite ways to honor trees is celebrating Tu BiShvat, the Jewish holiday that commemorates the “New Year for the Trees.” This year, it begins at sunset on Feb. 5, the 15th day of the Hebrew month of Shevat.
We all know the saying that money doesn’t grow on trees. But given that our bills are paper, I figured that our currency is, at least, made from trees.
Even though I’m in the tropics, it’s dark, damp and still here on the ground. The sun’s intense rays are absorbed by the layers of leaves over my head. Looking upward, I feel a familiar jig of excitement. What will I find today?
I recently took the train from Salt Lake City to California, my first such experience in decades. Each mile, my train passed over 3,000 railroad ties – nearly all of them made from trees.
On a recent camping trip in Nevada, I visited a display of petrified wood. A tall chain link fence surrounded the logs — as if they were in prison — to protect them from people who might grab pieces as souvenirs.
As an ecologist, I have shelves full of scientific and literary books on trees. One of my favorites is an essay by the German writer Hermann Hesse, who received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1946. As we head into the New Year, I’m sharing with you this selection from Hesse’s piece titled, “On Trees.” I hope you find it as powerful as I do.
Given the biological purpose of mistletoe, Nalini Nadkarni finds it pretty strange that this parasite is also a symbol of love.
With the holidays come evergreen wreaths on people’s doors and windows — which got host Nalini Nadkarni asking: Where does all of this holiday greenery come from?
This morning, our lawn looked like the aftermath of some sort of tree party. But instead of scattered confetti, big pieces of bark were strewn all over, deposited by the giant sycamore tree that grows in our neighbor's backyard.
With the World Series just wrapping up, host Nalini Nadkarni takes a closer look at the role of trees in baseball history.
People have used cork for millennia. It's light, buoyant, and elastic, thanks to the 40 million air cells that occupy each cubic inch. Today, we use cork for fishing floats, floor tiles, and of course, bottle stoppers.
The other day, as I lugged home 300 pounds of apples from my neighbor’s yard, I thought about the purpose of … fruit.