Where the Red Tailed Hawk Flies

The Sycamore

Today I discovered the Starlings' nest in the Sycamore. The gnarled old tree extends its mottled branches out across the trail like outstretched arms, beckoning me to come and sit in its shade.

The Sycamore is old, and at first glance appears to be dying. But, with a closer look, I see dozens of holes, old and new nesting sites for the Starlings; a bird "condo" of sorts. Ma and Pa Starling work tirelessly flying back and forth to their home in the Sycamore where their nestlings are safely tucked away.

A family of ground squirrels prance in and out of their burrows at the base of the tree. They have tunneled at the Sycamore's roots, creating a maze of playgrounds and hiding places for their snacks. The adolescent squirrels scamper, rustling the dry leaves, thus betraying the younger squirrels' hiding places. Last season's dry leaves become next season's compost.

Red Headed Woodpeckers chatter to each other as they flit in and out among the branches while snacking on bugs along the Sycamore's tough bark.

Young green shoots sprout from the broad trunk, vying for the space that will replace their mother tree during the next century.

A shy lizard hurries across a limb, avoiding detection from a hungry Blue Jay.

I sit on one of the immense low lying branches, extending 100 feet from the base of the tree. A cadre of ants approaches my resting spot, silently influencing me to move on.

How much life grows within the protection of this old tree?

At first glance this tree appears to be well past its prime, but with a closer look, one can see it teems with life. Could a sapling support this variety of birds, insects and animals?

Would a youthful tree provide the safety and sanctity of weathered bark and penetrating roots?

It is the matured Sycamore that shares its strength and supports new life.