After visiting my native terrain on Manitoulin Island last week, I’m ready to declare that the tamarack is my favorite tree. I’ve always been fond of this species (larix laricina, also known as the eastern larch), which—as one of a very small number of conifers in the world which shed their needles in the fall— is not afraid to announce to the world loudly and proudly that it is non-conforming. Tamaracks put on a show in three seasons out of four: They stand naked and bare in the winter, leading many a property owner who is unacquainted with the species to think that the tree is dead and fit to be cut down. In the spring when its needles first emerge, the feathery clusters are a bright lime-green in colour, contrasting with the darker green of the spruce and pine.
But it is in the autumn that the tamarack makes its boldest display. In October, after the maples have shed their leaves, tamaracks go through a similar process of shutting down the chemical machinery of photosynthesis to conserve nutrients for the coming year. Once the needles are deprived of food and water, the carotene pigment that was present all along but hidden by chlorophyll green comes to the forefront, changing the needles first to a brilliant canary-yellow colour and then to flaming orange as they die. Seldom do you see one tamarack tree but you see a whole stand of yellow spires in a swamp or on the edge of a forest, making a brave statement of individuality even when dusted with snow on a grey, overcast day.
Scientists speculate that dropping its needles may be an adaptive technique that provides the tamarack with a competitive advantage over other conifers when growing in nutrient-poor environments, as tamaracks often do. The species asserts its uniqueness not only in its deciduous behaviour but also in its choice of habitat. It is what botanists call a “pioneer tree”—one of the first trees to invade the bogs that form in kettle lakes and one of the first to grow after a forest fire. However, like some people I know, the tamarack doesn’t enjoy the company of other trees. It is extremely shade-intolerant, often giving way over time to other species such as the black spruce, the white cedar and the balsam fir. It may be precisely because of this dislike of sharing its space that the tamarack is often found in low-nutrient, poorly drained sites.
The hardy, resilient nature of the tamarack is reflected in its wood. It is the densest softwood in North America and is virtually rot-proof. Its high resistance to bending and compression make it useful for piers and pilings for bridges and for timbers to shore up mine shafts. My father told me that his father had told him that many of the beams in the barn on the family farm on Manitoulin Island were tamarack, some of them stout beams 40 feet long. Although it is over 100 years old, that barn is one of the few barns still standing on the 12th concession of Campbell—maybe because it was built with tamarack wood.
In the end, it is the resilience of the tamarack that causes me to call it my favorite tree. Psychologists define resilience as “adapting and responding positively to stress and misfortune”. It is an acquired skill, not a trait you can win or lose in the genetic lottery. The tamarack may not be the most sociable of trees, but it inspires me by its ability to thrive in difficult environments and its readiness to announce its presence with a brilliant display of colour (even as it is shedding its needles in order to survive through another difficult winter). Resilience is adaptability: as Elizabeth Edwards wrote, “Resilience is accepting your new reality, even if it’s less good than the one you had before. You can fight it, you can do nothing but scream about what you’ve lost, or you can accept that and try to put together something that’s good.”
“Resilience is accepting your new reality, even if it’s less good than the one you had before.”
There are many great online resources that describe ways to build resilience, among them “The 5 Best Ways to Build Resiliency” in Experience Life magazine. Here are my top four recommendations:
- See yourself as a survivor, not a victim. Tamaracks actually thrive in rich, well-drained soil—but they face greater competition from other species there and a result are more often found on the margins. Resilient people maintain an internal locus of control and refuse to allow circumstances to determine who they are and what they become. Having a moral compass—an internal system of values and ethics—helps counter the disorienting effect of difficult experiences and keeps us pointing in the direction of our higher purpose.
- Adopt an attitude of gratitude. I’ve written before about how gratitude builds resilience. Resilient people never deny the negative experiences and emotions, but let them sit side by side with positive thoughts. At the same time as they’re feeling sad about one thing, they’re reminding themselves to be grateful about another. Such a well-balanced emotional response may not come naturally, but we can change our thinking patterns by challenging our reflexive tendency to pay more attention to negative events than positive ones. Barbara Frederickson, author of Positivity, says one key to building resiliency lies in noticing and appreciating positive experiences whenever and wherever they occur.
- Look at challenges as an opportunity to evolve. Scientists think that the tamarack has adapted to its environment by adopting the deciduous pattern of dropping its needles in the fall, enabling it to reabsorb a high proportion of nitrogen from the needles before they are shed. This gives the tree a head start on an essential nutrient for next year’s growth. Resilient people leverage challenges as opportunities to grow and evolve, recognizing that problems come to all of us in life. Rather than asking “Why me?” or “Who’s to blame for this?”, we can ask “learner questions” like “What is this experience trying to teach me?” or “What are my available choices?”
- Take care of yourself. A regular routine of healthy habits is foundational to mental and emotional resilience. It’s one of the reasons why I run: running relieves anxiety and boosts my mood. At International Justice Mission where I work, each day begins with 30 minutes of quiet meditation: no phone, no email, no social media, no meetings. Just silence. Among other benefits, mental breaks and relaxation help keep stress chemicals at bay, reducing the likelihood of feeling overwhelmed and reactive.
“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers… whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth.”
Herman Hesse wrote, “For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers… whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.” Listen to the tamarack as it teaches us about resilience.
Unless otherwise noted, all photos and text © 2018 Edwin Wilson
