Silk Floss Tree

I am shocked to see how long it is since I have posted anything here.  It is odd, because Treeaware is always on my mind and I have constantly been taking photos for the blog but not actually posting them.  I think this is largely caused by the fact that I have been adjusting to having two delightful Granddaughters instead of just one- and helping look after two very young girls is certainly more demanding than one!  Don't misunderstand me, I feel incredibly lucky to have the experience and enjoy it immensely- I just need to push myself to make use of the ample time I have for my own work.  I have just got out of the habit.

 

That said, I am restarting by writing a long post about one of my very, very favourite Los Angeles' trees- the Silk Floss tree, or Ceiba speciosa, a drought tolerant native from the tropical and sub-tropical forests of South America. 

I love it because everything about it is- to me- extraordinary and totally unexpected as you watch it through the seasons. 

What first excited me on seeing one of these trees in Santa Monica was these amazingly sharp conical spikes, giving the tree the appearance of some scaly prehistoric animal:

 

 Apparently, one of the uses of these spikes is to store water...

           Whereas older trees turn grey, young trees have green trunks due to a high chlorophyll content  to enable photosynthesis when the leaves fall off (they are deciduous).

           Below, are some examples of smoother bark, but still having a very animal-like structure:

   Even the roots sometimes perpetuate this animal-like formation!

Here below is a Silk Floss in the Los Angeles Arboretum and Botanical Gardens in Arcadia.  This, and the following one, show how the older trees are often bottle shaped, bulging out in the lower trunk- caused by water collecting there:

  I also love the patterns of green lines you often find between the spikes, as above and below.  These are in fact "stretch marks" caused by the expansion of the bark as the tree becomes bloated with water.

 

 But this possibly younger tree- also in the Arboretum- has no bulge and is immensely tall.  They can grow rapidly up to as much as 80ft:

                And here is another tall one, but this time with a good collection of spikes:

The next thing that excited and surprized me about this most surprizing tree, was the flowers that usually appear after the leaves have fallen.  Who would believe that this extraordinary spiky barked tree would produce these delicate, pink (or sometimes white or dark pink) orchid-like flowers?  I find this unexpected juxtaposition fascinating.

And then this tree has yet another surprize, gradually evolving into a sci-fi tree, as the flowers die and morph into mysterious avocado-like "pods", covering the trees...

 

 

Now for the last excitement: if you have wondered why it is called a Silk Floss tree, here is your answer.  The pods begin to split, exposing some white fluff:

 

The hard sections of the pods fall away leaving the "silk floss" exposed:

  

At this stage the floss can be very reminiscent of cauliflowers!

But after a time it breaks up and becomes silky.  If you look carefully you can spot the bean-like seeds nestling inside:

Finally, the wind blows the floss off the branches onto the ground- a fluffy mass of silk, one seed in each piece:

 

So this is explains why the Silk Floss belongs to the same family as the Kapok tree, whose fluff was traditionally used as stuffing for toys and cushions.   As a child, before the days of synthetic wadding, I used this constantly.  Now, of course, the value of using organic materials is recognized.  The Silk Floss tree's fluff has sometimes been used in this way too, but sadly it's uses are limited as it is so much more delicate and insubstantial than kapok.

 

The last things we see- scattered on the ground below the tree - are the fallen sections of the pods...

Mildred E. Mathias Botanical Garden

In my recent post about the Rainbow Eucalyptus, I mentioned how the trees I found were opposite UCLA's Mildred E. Mathias Botanical Garden. Well, needless to say, after wallowing in the excitement of the Eucalyptus', I explored the Garden to my great enjoyment. It does not cover a large area, but because it is set in a hollow with paths winding about between dense trees, it seems much larger than it actually is.

The garden - started in 1929 - has undergone many changes over the years under different Directors and has been widely used for experimentation in growing tropical trees and plants. For instance, it was one of the first places in LA to grow different varieties of Eucalyptus trees. In 1971 it was given Mildred E. Mathias' name, she having been a long-term Director and a botanical pioneer, researching into and introducing new flowers and trees to the country- as well as being an early environmentalist.

It is wonderful to find yourself stepping off the road and suddenly plunging into this exotic world. How lucky UCLA students are to have this shady refuge on their doorstep. What a delightful place to- as I did- have a picnic lunch...

One of the first trees I came across was in fact another Rainbow Eucalyptus- Eucalyptus deglupta- but the bark of this one was, at this time, more subdued than the ones I had been photographing on the street:


Another beautiful Eucalyptus there was a Eucalyptus grandis, or Rose Gum:


And when I first entered the garden I got really excited by a grove of Eucalyptus maculata- or Spotted Gum- the patterns of their peeling bark being like a black-and-grey version of the London Plane tree:



And then I discovered another Eucalyptus, with a very different bark- Eucalyptus botryoides, or Southern mahogany:



This next tree could not be mistaken for a Eucalyptus! It is an Agonis flexuosa, or Willow myrtle:


Now I come to a tree that astonished me: it is yet another variety of Ficus tree, Ficus racemosa, or Cluster Fig. What amazed me was the way the figs grow out of the bark instead of on the ends of branches. To me, they looked as if they were the work of a Designer, who had scattered them onto the surface of a tree for a shop window display!




And here is another Ficus- Ficus gnapthalocarpa, or Sandpaper Fig. This time it was the geometric pattern of the bark that caught my eye:


It was the crazily peeling bark that attracted me to this next tree too- a Melaleuca styphelioides, or Prickly Paperbark:



I am always fascinated by Palm trees bark formations, however often I see them. First, a Brahea armata, or Blue Hesper Palm:


Secondly, a Butia capitata, or Jelly Palm:


Arriving down at the bottom of the hollow, beside a stream was this collection of Bamboos. When I first looked at them, I was upset that they had been so covered in name carvings- then it occurred to me that they actually looked like some wonderful Egyptian sculpture- or the spines of antique, leather-bound books. Sad as it was that they had not been respected as living organisms, at least they were still beautiful...


Here are some more- uncontaminated- bamboos:


And here is a group of the many Turtles that bask in the sun on the shores of the stream:


Finally, I took a look up into the sky, to the tops of Palm trees and Dawn Redwoods:



I have only mentioned the particular trees that caught my eye, but there is so much more to see- it is well worth a visit...

The Fall in LA

All my life having been subjected to the miraculous, dramatic shocks of the changing seasons in the UK, I will always feel rather cheated in Southern California, where the changes are more subtle. Because of this, I get extra excited when finding evidence of Autumn- or I should say "the Fall"- in LA where the majority of trees are evergreens.

As I have said before, as an artist my prime interest in trees is visual. Although my knowledge of the indigenous British trees is quite extensive, it is very limited regarding trees from other countries, including those in the US. In the last few days I have twice been made very aware of this, and embarrassed myself.

The first instance: Nearby, there is a wonderful avenue of one of the few local trees that are now glowing red and yellow and orange. I vaguely decided they were some variety of Maples- partly because of their colours and partly because of the palmate shape of the leaves:









Before writing this post I looked more closely at them, and soon realized that there were no signs of the Acer family winged seed pods. Instead there were these spiky, round fruits that I think of as "pom-poms", similar to those on the London Plane trees, and the leaves were slightly different from all the Maples.


A bit of research led me to the American Sweetgum tree- Liqidambar styraciflua.

My second instance of mistaken identity was in a street connected to that of the Sweetgums, down which I regularly walk when taking my Granddaughter Violet to a nearby playground. There I was constantly enjoying some magnificent tall golden trees, especially when lit by sunlight. Again, I was not that concerned about what they were, as it was their colour rather than their structure that caught my attention. I thought they were possibly some sort of Sycamores (though not the London Plane tree).








Having decided to include them in this post I became a bit more observant: checking out the leaves on the ground, I recognized the distinctive shape of a tree I had fallen in love with in the Botanical Gardens of Bath. This was the Tulip tree, Liriodendron tulipifera, also known as the Yellow Poplar tree, although it is a member of the Magnolia family. What puzzled me at first was that on the LA trees I had never noticed the wondrous flowers they have, and which I had delighted in photographing on the Bath tree- but then I remembered that last Spring I left the country in March, before they would have blossomed.

These are the LA leaves:



And this is one of the Bath ones:


And here is the evidence I zoomed in on of the seed clusters on the LA tree:


Finally, two photos of the Tulip tree flowers in Bath. I just can't wait to see the LA trees covered with these magical flowers next year!