It's Tulip (🌷) Tree Time

I guess if anything is possible as people like to say, then it's entirely possible that at some point in time I will be over the tulip tree. That time is definitely not now though. The tulip tree blooms are mostly way up high, but I found some that had been brought down to the ground by the wind.

The More You Look

the more you will see and it doesn't matter whether you dig mushroom hunting, are just beginning to identify trees by their leaf shape or have recently discovered that there are Tulip Tree samaras at your feet and above your head in the canopy in the fall. The point really is just to focus your attention, if even for just a moment, on even just the square foot of earth where you happen to be and see if you aren't knocked out by how much there is to name and know just a little better, and by how ridiculously beautiful it all is.

Unmistakable, Tulip Tree of Prospect Park

There are a lot of reasons to be excited about the Tulip Trees (Liriodendron tulipifera) of Prospect Park, not the least of which is that the species is a majestic towering native with spectacular blooms. What I particularly like is that this tree is unmistakable, identifiable with obvious characteristics in all seasons. Below, the flower reveals its lineage clearly and anyone who has ever looked closely at a Magnolia flower could at least guess that the trees are related. (In fact, they share a family, the Magnoliaceae.)

Tulip Fever

Liriodendron tulipifera in winter in Prospect Park. The remaining samaras above and the winter silhouette below. According to my New York City Trees book, loggers now use the Tulip Tree to make door and window frames and plywood veneer among other things. According to Peterson's Field Guide of Medicinal Plants, Native Americans chewed the green bark as an aphrodisiac and stimulant. But a tea was made from the bark too for assisting with a case of the pinworms. It's a pretty fantastic looking tree too in any season.

The Magnolia Monarch

The Tulip tree, which Edward Sibley Barnard calls the "monarch of the magnolia family" in his New York City Trees field book, I suppose reigns from lofty heights in Eastern North America simply because it is one of our tallest native hardwoods. Susan and I were admiring the remnants of this royal tree's spring flowers way up in the canopy late this afternoon in Prospect Park. The Tulip (Liriodendron tulipifera) is easy to identify in winter, especially when its large seedheads are present, which is just one of the reasons why I love this tree. Not so long ago, when I first began trying to name the plants I saw every day, (mostly unsuccessfully) the Tulip tree was an early easy success, even in winter, even on a bicycle. From far below at eye level, these seedheads are clearly visible in the tree canopy. They aren't too sturdy though, as the one found on the ground pictured below broke apart in Susan's hand really easily. My camera doesn't have enough of a zoom lens to really capture them though, especially in the low light of almost the shortest day of the year, but I'm going to try and see if I can find some closer to the ground this winter to capture.