If the birch is gentle and the oak is majestic, then the beech is gentle and majestic at the same time. Its soul is poetic, and its strength is strong. The essence of any tree is best reflected in its leaves. This slightly wavy periphery, the translucent petiole in a grassy green shade, the parallel veins, arranged meticulously, reveal to us what it is like. After realizing that the oak (Quercus Robur) had given an interview , the common beech dared to follow him. Surprisingly, he had prepared some answers, the meaning of which he wanted to convey.
Why did you decide to follow the example of the oak tree?
I highly value QR and I think he should be emulated. Another personal reason is that I am looking for a field for expression. I try to compose poetry. I dream of being a poet…
I think you are destined to be a poet! Do you know how your English name came about? Beech comes from the Anglo-Saxon word boc and the German word Buche, which gave the word book.
Interesting. I didn't suspect that. I know that Fagus sylvatica literally translates from Latin beech, forest.
Does poetry help you look so young? Your skin is smooth and your petals are so delicate.
Poetry, shade and water! As a shade-tolerant species, I am less affected by photoaging. My preference for humid air and fresh soils contributes to my good tone and turgor, but also to my distribution in the mountains of Bulgaria from 700 to 1700 m above sea level.
In the mountains, you are the most important of our broadleaf species. You form mostly pure stands — forests of only beech. You are apparently self-sufficient.
Well, from time to time I also give interviews to show myself to the world. (Laughs loudly.)
Do you suffer from conflicting desires, like a true artist?
I suffer! Take, for example, my offspring - my beech acorns. Like those of the oak, they are a favorite food of many animals. I constantly come up with strategies for their preservation and distribution. Actually, more likely only for their distribution. The latest - protrusions on the dome that can grab onto some animals... At the same time, the fact that my acorns are necessary for the sustenance of other species flatters me and gives me a new meaning. That is why I refused to make them more bitter. Even now I am tempted to admit that they are edible for humans. My leaves are also edible when they are young. As they ripen, they become bitter and harder. However, the latter does not interfere with livestock. My attitude towards deciduous trees is also contradictory. It is well known that it is necessary for us, deciduous trees, to cope with the adverse conditions in winter. However, I resisted parting with my leaves. I keep some of them dry even in the winter. For self-confidence – you understand me.
I know you have a scientific interest in water. What would you like to tell us?
We are all (trees and people) temporary reservoirs of water. In the leaves of trees, its content is 80-95%. In the roots – 70-90%. In the wood – 40-50%. Water travels and remembers. It is always in motion, even when it seems stationary to us. You are probably familiar with the upward and downward flow in trees. Osmosis is the process that helps this continuous movement. From cell to cell. Up, from the roots to the leaves, the xylem moves water and mineral salts. Down, from the leaves to the roots, the phloem transports tree sap (water + nutrients). In the summer, large deciduous trees like me can lose up to 300 liters of water through evaporation. This amount would be even greater if respiration had not evolved to occur on the underside of the leaves. You should know that there are no hydrophyte trees. The body of hydrophytes is completely or partially submerged in water. And you and I are terrestrial creatures.
Thank you very much for this interview. You were...
Wait a minute! Do you want me to recite my latest poem to you?
Of course!
A new day, a new sunrise, A new beginning, new destinies. They hide a burning fire the awakening morning rays. Life reveals every song, melody coming from A cool breeze in the green forests. They sink heavy, tired branches In the stream, birches were clearly asleep. And a breath of freshness, a divine breath They are dreaming a waking dream. Fog envelops like a cloak nature rubbing its eyes. Light drops on a mirrored lake They are playing a mysterious dance. Wet silhouettes move down under trees and leaves. Forest aromas fill the air with grace. A new day, a new sunrise, A new beginning, new destinies.
It's beautiful! And does it have a name?
"Dawn".
