Ketzel levine biography sampler
In New England, Concern Grows for Sugar Maple
By Ketzel LevineOct 29, 2007 1:58am (Morning Edition / NPR)
The furrowed trunk and wide reach of an old majestic sugar maple in Vermont. Some have expressed concern that a warming climate could impact the future number of these trees in New England. Image: Ketzel Levine, NPR/
In New England, Concern Grows for Sugar Maple
A sample from the fall palette of maple trees. While sugar maple colors range from yellow to peachy pink and all hues in between, the hot red seen here belongs to a red maple. Image: Ketzel Levine, NPR/
Charlie Cogbill reads the original lotting map for the town of Calais, Vt. The real find here is the description of tree species written in the corner of each 18th century lot. Image: Ketzel Levine, NPR/
Consider the color of fall leaves on a sugar maple tree: peach, orange, lemon, mango. It's an autumn delicacy, a thunderhead of foliage.
The species is also quite long-lived. In the Carlsons' forest in Sandwich, N.H., a few date from the 1700s. Martha Carlson has a number of favorite trees, with stories to tell about each one.
"I was tapping the trees right beside my house, and it was early in the season," Carlson says. "It was 34 degrees, and the sap was just pouring out. Then a cloud went over and the sap stopped. You could almost hear the tree click off."
An exquisitely sensitive tree, shuddering at the slightest chill, the sugar maple has a wide variety of residents, ecologists and scientists worried about how it will fare should Northeast temperatures rise as projected during the next century of climate change.
A Generations-Old Tree
As he looks out over the hills of Northeastern Vermont, historical ecologist Charlie Cogbill takes his cues about sugar maples from their past.
"They were actually more abundant during the inter-glacial period 4,000 years ago," Cogbill says. "But they've been here for 8,000 years."
Cogbill's current focus is the pre-settlement forest, the way
Beautiful Lilacs Tell a Tale About Climate
By Ketzel LevineMay 11, 2007 1:28am (Morning Edition / NPR)
The lilac's easy-to-read life cycle makes it a good plant for observing changes in the environment. Image: Mark Schwartz/
Beautiful Lilacs Tell a Tale About Climate
Karen Delahaut works for the University of Wisconsin in Madison, but her avocation is phenology. Image: Ketzel Levine/
Lilacs -– like these first cuttings in Portland, Ore. — bloom in the Northwest for at least twice as long as they do in the Midwest Image: Ketzel Levine/NPR
A sampling of the meticulous notecards kept by Madison, Wis., phenologist James Zimmerman. His widow, Libby Zimmerman, has 50 years worth of his observations. Image: Ketzel Levine/NPR
Heads up, you backyard botanists. Take a look at your region's native plants. Are the bloodroots budding? The saguaro cactus blooming?
If so, Project Budburst needs you. The online "citizen science" campaign collects data about native plants. All you have to do to play is observe. Whether it's the first leaf of an aspen or the first bloom of an evening primrose, note the date, head for the Web site, and presto! You're an instant phenologist.
Phenology, the ancient art of tracking annual phenomena such as plant blooms and bird migrations, is now a crucial tool in tracking the Earth's warming. It can be as simple as smelling a lilac.
I hope you can imagine the fragrance of a lilac. If you've forgotten its scent, get to a nursery, quick! It's so powerfully stirring and reassuring that within a century of their introduction here, lilacs were synonymous with "home."
These nonnative shrubs also have had a great deal to say about how our climate is changing.
It all started in the 1950s, when Bozeman, Mont., professor Joseph Caprio used the lilac's bud and bloom times to map the advance of Montana's spring. By the 1980s, an entire lilac network stretched across the country. That network later morphed into the National Phenology Net .
One of the first garden blogs I read was her's. Memory says she kept on blogging after being laid off from NPR. Of course I can't find that blog now, it's off in the internet archives somewhere. I also remember seeing a few online tours of her garden, like this one from Garden Rant and this one from Sunset. You'd think with all the open gardens I've toured here in Portland I would have visited hers by now, right? Nope. Not until a week ago when my friend Ann was house/dog sitting and invited me over. Just like Susan from Garden Rant (link above) I toured Ketzel's garden without Ketzel...
No worries, I did check with her (via email) to make sure I could share photos. She generously said yes.
Oh look, it's that Monarda macrantha I lost last winter. I wonder if her's wintered over in the container? I'm guessing no, since that succulent in the center isn't hardy here in Portland.
Here's the generously sized gate from which you enter the front garden.
And this area is just to the north (on the left as you enter). We previously saw the home's front porch which is directly ahead of the gate.
I absolutely love the mixed material hardscape.
Love it.
And the fact the colors are very consis