he allegory continues. Taking cover in a location that would not be the natural habitat for members of Arachnida, I sought refuge in a heavily forested area, outside the reach of my 8-legged adversaries. Twice approached, twice injured and practically devoured, I was hopeful that once outside their reach, I'd have seen and experienced the worst.
To my delight a majestic and welcoming conifer towered before me, with what appeared to be a series of small recesses that could be an ideal place for me to shelter. Yes, the outer bark of the trunk featured square holes bored in a neat and tidy vertical row. These ready-made impressions would be most accommodating, and could serve to protect me from future attack. I crawled up the trunk intent on taking cover in one to recuperate.
Consider the outer bark of a tree as a shield of protection, guarding both excessive moisture from entering and critical moisture within the tree's anatomy from being dissipated into the atmosphere. The outer bark also serves as insulation against temperature changes and wards off insect invasion. The inner bark is the conduit by which nutrients travel. The transfer or exchange of fluid within a tree is bi-directional, as nourishment is collected both at its base through the root structure and in the canopy by way of the leaves. Phloem sap carries nutrients from the leaves travelling downward, while xylem sap travels upwards from the root bowl. The xylem sap is a dilute liquid comprised mainly of water that is under pressure and therefore flows quite readily. Phloem sap, on the other hand, has a higher viscosity and is hence more slow moving as it travels from the extremities of the branches down into the trunk. Heavily laden with sugars, the phloem sap has a thick and gluey consistence and could be tricky to navigate if one were a small creature roaming the bark.
What I wasn't aware of is that multiple rows of square holes, featured on a tree trunk, are a tell-tale sign of the work of a sapsucker. This crafty bird laboriously drills away to release the tree phloem sap which he then laps up with his very elongated feathery tongue. The process is addressed much like an assembly line. One horizontal row of holes is drilled and, whether by sheer persistence or related to some anti-coagulant in the sapsucker's saliva, the phloem sap flows freely until the tree begins to coagulate its precious life blood just above the wound. Methodically, the sapsucker then creeps upwards and proceeds to drill a hole above the last, releasing the phloem sap that collected near the prior injury site again.
Yes, indeed, the yellow-bellied sapsucker loves his nectar and is a highly intuitive and skilled craftsman.
To my delight a majestic and welcoming conifer towered before me, with what appeared to be a series of small recesses that could be an ideal place for me to shelter. Yes, the outer bark of the trunk featured square holes bored in a neat and tidy vertical row. These ready-made impressions would be most accommodating, and could serve to protect me from future attack. I crawled up the trunk intent on taking cover in one to recuperate.
Consider the outer bark of a tree as a shield of protection, guarding both excessive moisture from entering and critical moisture within the tree's anatomy from being dissipated into the atmosphere. The outer bark also serves as insulation against temperature changes and wards off insect invasion. The inner bark is the conduit by which nutrients travel. The transfer or exchange of fluid within a tree is bi-directional, as nourishment is collected both at its base through the root structure and in the canopy by way of the leaves. Phloem sap carries nutrients from the leaves travelling downward, while xylem sap travels upwards from the root bowl. The xylem sap is a dilute liquid comprised mainly of water that is under pressure and therefore flows quite readily. Phloem sap, on the other hand, has a higher viscosity and is hence more slow moving as it travels from the extremities of the branches down into the trunk. Heavily laden with sugars, the phloem sap has a thick and gluey consistence and could be tricky to navigate if one were a small creature roaming the bark.
What I wasn't aware of is that multiple rows of square holes, featured on a tree trunk, are a tell-tale sign of the work of a sapsucker. This crafty bird laboriously drills away to release the tree phloem sap which he then laps up with his very elongated feathery tongue. The process is addressed much like an assembly line. One horizontal row of holes is drilled and, whether by sheer persistence or related to some anti-coagulant in the sapsucker's saliva, the phloem sap flows freely until the tree begins to coagulate its precious life blood just above the wound. Methodically, the sapsucker then creeps upwards and proceeds to drill a hole above the last, releasing the phloem sap that collected near the prior injury site again.
Yes, indeed, the yellow-bellied sapsucker loves his nectar and is a highly intuitive and skilled craftsman.
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