What's in a name?

Earlier today I managed to once again confuse myself about whether the understory plants I was pulling were actually buckthorn or some species of wild cherry. In part this tells me that, despite my best efforts  and intentions, I haven't been paying enough attention to details. I run into the same kinds of issues when faced with white and red pines; all of the local oak trees; and numerous other local flora. I do much better with local fauna, with certain exceptions such as purple versus house finches.

red pine? white pine?

Photo by J. Harrington

It also tells me that I continue my life-long dislike of learning things through brute memorization, compounded by the fact that photos and pictures in field guides for trees and wildflowers are rarely an exact match for what's in front of me in the field. The past week of so the Better Half and I have seen two foxes. Each was a red fox. We know this because, although the area where we live is within the range of both red and gray foxes in Minnesota, we aren't colorblind and the foxes we saw were both red. That identification is more readily accomplished while driving past a fox, or having one run in front of the Jeep, than counting the number of needles in a fascicle to distinguish white (5) from red (2) pine trees. It can't be done, even traveling as slow as 30 mph.

Admittedly, these are not matters of great personal significance. If they were, I'd hope I'd rapidly improve my knowledge of functions, purpose and identification of various species. Although, I've been an angler for trout for many years and I still readily forget which is the adipose fin. I keep confusing it with a different fin that also begins with an "a." Neither fin is of as much significance to me as they are to the trout.

So, which comes first, the nomenclature or the significance? Perhaps I'll gain some insight if I read an article I came across earlier today, How Oak Trees Evolved to Rule the Forests of the Northern Hemisphere. That may provide a useful context to hang other information about differentiating characteristics, or perhaps some mnemonic hints to make memorization easier and less brutal.

Naming the Trees

By Bruce Guernsey

At the national cemetery in Gettysburg

all the trees have names,

both family and genus

on small brass plaques at the base of each

to let the visitor know

the kind of oak,

whether red, white or black,

and is this rock or silver maple

looking once like any other

burlapped ball of roots

when it was lowered to earth

those decades after the war.

Colorful names like Tulip Poplar,

Weeping Beech, Buckeye,

Sweet Gum and Gingko—

sounding like nicknames almost, these trees

from every region and state

with broad leaves or skinny,

shiny, dull, or no leaves at all

like the Eastern Hemlock,

but all, all with names every one,

no matter the size and shape

amidst the many anonymous

mute stones in their shade.

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