Nearly Extinct American Chestnut Trees Found

American Chestnut Tree
Castanea dentata


(Many thanks to Kentaurian, long time hawkwatcher
and nature observer, for sending in
the article. D.B.)

Nearly Extinct American Chestnut Trees Found

By The Associated Press
posted: 18 May 2006 06:24 pm ET

ALBANY, Ga. (AP)—A stand of American chestnut trees that somehow escaped a blight that killed off nearly all their kind in the early 1900s has been discovered along a hiking trail not far from President Franklin D. Roosevelt's Little White House at Warm Springs.

The find has stirred excitement among those working to restore the American chestnut, and raised hopes that scientists might be able to use the pollen to breed hardier chestnut trees.

"There's something about this place that has allowed them to endure the blight,'' said Nathan Klaus, a biologist with the Georgia Department of Natural Resources who spotted the trees. "It's either that these trees are able to resist the blight, which is unlikely, or Pine Mountain has something unique that is giving these trees resistance.''

Experts say it could be that the chestnuts have less competition from other trees along the dry, rocky ridge. The fungus that causes the blight thrives in a moist environment.

The largest of the half-dozen or so trees is about 40 feet tall and 20 to 30 years old, and is believed to be the southernmost American chestnut discovered so far that is capable of flowering and producing nuts.

"This is a terrific find,'' said David Keehn, president of the Georgia chapter of the American Chestnut Foundation. "A tree of this size is one in a million.''

The rugged area known as Pine Mountain is at the southern end of the Appalachians near Warm Springs, where Roosevelt built a home and sought treatment after he was stricken with polio in 1921.

"FDR may have roasted some chestnuts on his fire for Christmas or enjoyed their blooms in the spring,'' Klaus said.

The chestnut foundation may use pollen from the tree in a breeding program aimed at restoring the population with blight-resistant trees.

"When the flowers are right, we're going to rush down and pollinate the flowers, collect the seeds a few weeks later and collect the nuts,'' Klaus said. "If we ever find a genetic solution to the chestnut blight, genes from that tree will find their way into those trees.''

The chestnut foundation has been working for about 15 years to develop a blight-resistant variety. The goal is to infuse the American chestnut with the blight-resistant genes of the Chinese chestnut.

American chestnuts once made up about 25 percent of the forests in the eastern United States, with an estimated 4 billion trees from Maine to Mississippi and Florida.

The trees helped satisfy demand for roasted chestnuts, and their rot-resistant wood was used to make fence posts, utility poles, barns, homes, furniture and musical instruments.

Then these magnificent hardwoods, which could grow to a height of 100 feet and a diameter of 8 feet or more, were almost entirely wiped out by a fast-spreading fungus discovered in 1904.

"There are no chestnuts roasting on an open fire, and if they are, they're Chinese,'' Keehn said.

And Mom makes at least three...

UPDATE!


Photo by Eleanor Tauber

And Mom makes at least three-

Stella Hamilton, hawk watcher and friend of all creatures who fly, walk, crawl, hop,or slither, just gave me a call. There is big excitement at The Hawk Bench this afternoon. Remember the raccoon who lives in the tree cavity just north of the Model Boat Pond, a stone throw from Pale Male's nest?

Today when the raccoon went out to forage, two new little raccoon faces peeked out of her doorway. And as a raccoon litter is anywhere from two to seven kits, the question becomes, are there any more in there?


Photo by Samantha Browne-Walters

Stella, sitting on the edge of The Model Boat Pond with 927 Fifth Avenue in the background. It's teeny but up there on the top floor, middle window above the cornice, or above 'the eyebrow' as Noreen, original hawkwatcher, likes to say, is Pale Male and Lola's nest.

WAITING FOR THE RAPTORS

Photo-D.B.
WAITING FOR THE RAPTORS
18 MAY 2006


It was a gorgeous day. So I grabbed the scope earlier than usual and took off for the southern end of Central Park. I had high hopes of spotting Charlotte, Pale Male Jr., and the Peregrine pair. After all, might they not be out enjoying the weather themselves?

Well the day was still gorgeous, but the high hopes of spotting the raptors anytime soon were thoroughly dashed. I decided instead of continually trotting around looking while the birds ducked behind chimneys and giggled, I'd choose a place where I could get the long view of at least part of both their territories at the same time. Therefore spying them as they went in and out, and in the best of all worlds, tracking them.

The park is wall to wall humans. Don't all these people have to make a living?

Finding a reasonably good spot, I unpack the gear, set up the scope, and with notebook and pen in hand, scan the skies, scrutinize the buildings and you guessed it...wait.

Now, this might seem silly to some birders, as the Park is surely full of all sorts of fascinating migrants just waiting to be identified, counted, and listed. And those activities are surely important and I've been known to do them myself. But what piques my curiosity the most, what brings me the most pleasure, the sparking of questions whose answers I'm urged to pursue these days, is to watch the behavior of animals. And while doing that in Central Park, where the populations of species tend to be small, and raptor species numbers the smallest, I can't help but begin to know the individual birds, their particular behaviors and for want of a better word, their personalities.

While Lola has been known to refuse prey brought to her by Pale Male, that isn't prepared to her specifications, Charlotte finds no problem, and even perhaps a preference in plucking her own pigeons, thank you. Right there on the nest, the feathers will fly.

Now as I was involved in these musings, I began to notice a pair of House Sparrows, Passer domesticus, making dozens of short trips back and forth to a tree cavity. Tiny bits of something in their beaks when they went in and nothing when they came out. Definitely bringing in "prey" for their nestlings. Just much smaller prey than the Red-tails.

The cock stops in his doorway and gives me a look.


Photo-D.B.
And there is a partial answer to the question. Why all the different beiges, browns, and blacks and why in those positions? Do you see?

Then my eye is caught by the Great Egret, Ardea alba, hunting in The Pond. He sees something, traverses the little island in a grand stalk...No, too long for tonight...a photo sequence tomorrow, perhaps?

He then stands as if he's a model for a pre-Raphaelite painting.

Photo-D.B.
What about the raptors you say? Yes indeed, what about them? I scan the sky. It has begun to be distinctly gray and cloudy. Visibility is way down. The wind has picked up. I turn and run the scope over the GM building. Guess who? There she is, Mrs P., sitting on GM 3 west, preening.

I wonder how long she's been there?

Drat! I grab for my notebook, uncover my watch, try to tighten the scope, and focus it, all at the same time. Plop. A fat raindrop hits my paper, running the ink. PLOP, PLOP! The heavens then open in a deluge of little warning. Or at least any warning to which I was paying the least bit of attention.

Then comes the mad grab for plastic, the stuffing of belongings into a suddenly too small bag, and finally when already drenched, the walk to the subway. Leaving Mrs. P. To go about her preening, and whatever other business she might wish to pursue in privacy. No Homo sapiens in the park now. It has been returned to all the creatures who make their livings there.