Tree Tuesday: Back to Yggdrasill: sacred tree of the solstice

As chance would have it, the tree I return to today is Yggdrasill, winter Solstice tree of Norse mythology, known here as the ash, a tree I wrote about two weeks ago when a senior of its clan was felled in Carré St-Louis.  Given that the Solstice falls this Sunday, it’s time to get to know this humble city tree, long venerated by many peoples of the Earth. In fact, had the city workers that had the sad task of cutting down the fragile old ash (as we call Yggdrasill, pronounced eeg-dra-zil) been aware of its magic qualities, they might have made wands from its remains instead of turning them into woodchips. The workers’ children would have rejoiced on Christmas morning.

Not to worry; no doubt the magical qualities of the ash (frêne, Fraxinus sp.) will do their work next spring serving as mulch around the base of a new tree as it begins its years of civil service. And, there’s a one in five chance that the recruit itself will be an ash for, until recently, ash — and Northern red ash (frêne rouge, Fraxinus pennsylvanica) in a particular — has been a commonly planted Montreal tree.

Those passing regularly through Carré St-Louis might have read the death notice or obituary — depending on your timing – that was posted on the tree by the Arrondissement Le Plateau-Mont-Royal explaining the reasons why the venerable member of the square would be leaving. I missed the notice but Michel Tanguay, Chargé de communication for the arrondissement, explained in an e-mail that numerous structural weakness in the tree, some due to previous branches lost to ice storms and wind storms, as well as internal rot, made the tree weak and unbalanced. In other words: unsafe for such a highly frequented site.

The trunk of this old ash tree  bears little resemblance to the trunk of the tree above that is roughly 25 years old. The elongated diamond shapes in the bark of the young ash become much wider and separate into square or rectangular plates as the tree ages.

In addition to its unusual bark — which I should mention is smooth and slightly pinkish in the newly planted tree — the female ash is easily identified in winter by its samaras, or keys, that hang symmetrically, like bags of gold, on either side of the twig. (You will recall from an earlier Tree Tuesday that the leaves and twigs of the ash grow opposite each other, unlike most trees — aside from maples — where the leaves and twigs grow alternately on the branch.) The tree is often home to squirrel dreys where the strategic tree-dwellers make their winter pantry out of the nutritious seeds.

Some speculate that the reason why ancient Norse peoples called the ash the World Tree is because they believed it nourished gods, humans, and animals, connecting all living things and all phases of existence. If you look closely at the stump of the Carré St-Louis ash, you will notice how its roots seem to enter Earth like a hand.  According to the website, Trees in Mythology, the Norse believed that the roots of Yggdrasill extended to various regions of the Underworld. According to the poem Grímnismál, Hel, the abode of the dead, lay under one of them, Jotunheim, land of giants, beneath another, and the world of men under a third, implying that these realms lay side by side, while that of the gods was above, in the sky.

Looking at the perfection in the crown of this ash, growing in the best of conditions in an inner city backyard, you can see why the gods would be ammenable to such a seat.

I have also read that the ash is considered the tree of life because its many samaras, or keys, ressemble people hanging from the branches.

What’s interesting about the ash is that Native Americans also considered the ash a founder tree. The Algonquian protector, Glooscap, for instance, shot an arrow made of ash into an ash tree from which sprang the first human beings. The black ash (frêne noir, Fraxinus nigra, or Ehsa, in Mohawk) was particularly valued for its use in making baskets: by pounding a split log, the Mohawks would separate the sapwood from the inner heartwood and cut off strips that would be dyed for weaving baskets for practical and ceremonial use.

My own feeling is that the ash, which, in 65 species, is prevalent throughout the northern temperate forest, was so abundant and so useful — its wood being both strong, flexible and, in some species, high in oil, making it good for snowshoes, furniture, hockey, building and lacrosse sticks, and as fuel — that the tree was greatly appreciated.

In a scene from the film, La nuit la plus long, now showing at the Dow Planetarium, there is scene showing Yggrasill decorated with foodstuffs. Long before the evergreen Christmas tree, the ash was decorated with food at the time of the Solstice as a token of thanks for its service. I have a few suggestions for showing gratitude to our own Yggdrasills and Ehsas and, for that matter, all street trees:

1) To save the trees’ trunks from being damaged by the sidewalk snow cleaners, shovel the snow around the plot so the cleaners can give the tree wide berth.

2) If you are the type to plant flowers around city trees, be sure not to put any extra earth or compost around the tree’s trunk. That collar needs oxygen and covering the area directly above the roots can kill the tree. In fact, if you add earth to the plot, keep it a good 10 centimetres away from the trunk advises tree inspector Nathalie Arcand from the Arrondissement Le Plateau-Mont-Royal. Once that distance has been respected, planting flowers or groundcover around the base of the tree is good for the tree gets extra water with the watering of flower bed.

3) Edible decorations, such as strings of cranberries and popcorn, will certainly look pretty and keep the birds and squirrels happy — and much better than the plastic bags that often don our trees. Don’t forget, a well-fed squirrel is less likely to chew on the bark of the ash than the hungry squirrel.

4) Don’t transport ash wood from Southern Ontario or the Monteregian (southeast of Montreal) area of Quebec! Why? Because a nasty exotic beetle by the name of the Emerald Ash Borer is on the loose and has killed millions of ash trees mostly in the Great Lakes region. So far, it has not been spotted on the Island of Montreal. Raise the drawbridges!

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that ash, being a wood of balance, was the Celt’s wood of choice for wand-making. Next time, you find an ash twig or branch, you can turn it into a wand by sanding away the bark and dressing it with a light coat of olive oil. To seal its magic powers, you must initiate it during the full Ash Moon, sometime between February 18 and March 17. That would be the perfect time to cast a protective spell on our valiant ash. Expecto Patronum Fraxinus!

Happy solstice!