A Rotting Tree? Good

If you have a rotting tree on your property, don't despair

If you have a rotting tree on your property, don't despair. In fact, congratulate yourself, you are doing a good turn for the environment. That is, as long as the tree is not likely to fall on your neighbour or on anyone passing by. And we have this from a report of a serious conference of tree managers and other authoritative people. We need insects for all sorts of reasons, from the bees and other winged creatures which pollinate fruit trees and so much else to all the wriggling things which eat up decaying material and generally help to make the world go round. It has been said, perhaps with exaggeration, that life on the planet could continue if all the human beings were wiped out, but not if all the invertebrates vanished.

Anyway, this report fascinates, and, in particular, one illustration, a drawing of a smallish, battered tree and what this maimed thing does for us. Arrows from the side point to the relevant areas: At the top are a few stag-headed branches, leafless, of course. These, says the caption, suit those insects which specialise in dessicated timber. Then an arrow points to a crotch, water-filled, which is a specific habitat for some beetles and flies and is also a point of entry for fungi. Then they show you bracket fungi on the trunk. You know, the stuff that emerges from the tree like a soup plate. Usually two or three of them, extending about eight or 10 inches or more. And we are told that these indicate "valuable internal decay" and are also a habitat themselves for many invertebrates, or the insect world.

On the exposed roots at ground level are smaller fungi, like the brackets. They just play host to different fauna from the others. You see holes where branches have been. Rot holes, they are called, and those at different levels in the tree, and each will have different fauna, depending on its location, wetness, etc. A shattered branch stump, all jagged from a breakage rather than a sawing-off, is important in its jaggedness for the laying of eggs by various creatures, for fungal spores and for water. Clean saw-ends, it points out, are no substitute.

Then there's fractured bark. Water gets in and fungal spores and some specialised insects. Finally there's a lump of a branch on the ground. "Left for the invertebrates." Everyone knows what it's like when you stir an ant's nest by mistake. Just multiply that by millions and you know what a world we're living in. Look with respect at that poor old dying tree as the eye sees it, and think of the millions it cherishes and nurtures. Your friendly scavengers and others.