Bark Is Beautiful

Enlarge Image Image Gallery Quaking aspens in Kaibab National Forest, Arizona. RIC ERGENBRIGHT

Here it is, the season of same-old-same-old: same old freezing rain, same old snow, same old chill winds, gray skies and barren, shivering timbers. In most parts of the country, it is the season of bleak landscapes, of nature-in-waiting for brighter days.

Or so it would seem. In some cases, winter’s apparent bleakness is only an illusion, self-induced by our tendency to overlook the beauty in the obvious, the everyday, the right-there-in-front-of-our-noses. Take, for example, those barren, shivering timbers I mentioned. True, the deciduous trees outside our windows are void of their lush summer greenery, their bare branches etching the skyline like long, stark, bony fingers.

But wait a minute: Grab a hat and coat, pull on some boots, go outdoors and take a closer look at those trees — no, not at what’s not there (leaves, fruit, flowers and seeds), but at the natural wonder that cradles, nourishes and protects every tree throughout its lifetime: bark.

Confounding Diversity

There certainly are exceptions to the notion that the world of tree bark isn’t showy or colorful. Some trees have emphatically bright-hued barks that stand out in the landscape: the white-lined, emerald-green bark of the striped maple; the striking metallic sheen of the yellow birch; the startlingly ivory, black-scribed trunk of the white birch, its wispy bark peeling back in thin ribbons to reveal creamier layers below.

But it’s form, not flash, that mostly makes our trees’ bark so extraordinary. Stand in a winter woodlot and look around, and at first glance you’ll notice not much more variety than subtle differences in shades of gray and brown. But if you move closer and spend some time examining each tree, you’ll discover an astounding diversity of bark patterns and textures: rough or silky smooth, thick or thin plated, furrowed or peeling, wavy or straight lined, ribbed or ridged, cracked or bumpy.

That diversity, in fact, is not only astounding, but confounding. Not even botanists can consistently rely on bark alone to identify a tree’s species. In some cases, a positive identification is simple enough, because the bark is truly distinctive or unique: shagbark hickory’s long, peeling, shedding strips; the sycamore’s light-green, gray and brown exfoliated patches. In other cases, bark can help you distinguish one broad category from another — a maple from a birch, for instance. But identifying exactly which species of maple or birch on the basis of bark alone can be a different matter.

What’s more, from a tree’s days as a young sprout to its demise from old age, disease, mishap or the hand of man, its bark changes many times. Some of those changes are mere matters of maturation; as the tree grows older, its bark may become lighter or darker, thicker or rougher, or more distinctively patterned.