This work is supported by the generous backers who adore my cat stories at Patreon.com/amberunmasked and they also get first access to what’s happening with my books and podcast.
Where We Left Off:
Disruptive weather turned the excavation project into a river of mud. We got off easy compared to most other people in the area. The governor even had to visit because of the mudslides. Here at the estate, Gus and Oliver showed extraordinary teamwork to save their biographer.
Once Upon a Time:
After the July storms, Gus and I tried to keep up with our morning patrols. A couple of those days, it was just too hot and humid to breathe so I made the decision to stay inside. When we did out to explore the area for any damage, Gus continued to keep his focus primarily on the rock wall fortress. The chipmunks have been visiting regularly and I think one of them is expecting babies!
When we’re not sprawled across the bed like a couple of sea lions, Gus and I try to get work done. In our defense, I consider marathons of Criminal Minds to be research. Oliver has requested carriage rides only seldom. This is because he’s out on his observation platform before I’m even out of bed. Plus, he’ll stay out there all day coming in for breaks. He has a water fountain out there, soft chairs, and lots of critters to observe.
The Grumpy Old Man gave me orders to check out one of the big trees at the end of the former fairy garden now simply the fern garden. This is one of our tallest and thickest trees, but it hasn’t looked healthy in years. The birds and squirrels absolutely love it. Gorgeous emerald moss grows on it just like the huge maple. In its weakened state, those storms caused two long splits down this tree’s thick trunk. I was sent to check it out.
Our initial identification of the tree was incorrect. It is not a beech tree; it’s a boxelder maple (acer negundo). That explains all the boxelder bugs! It’s a rabbit hole to go down the list of names of this species of tree. Needless to say, the name changes depending where you live. As it turns out, the boxelder tree has historical significance in music history. Earl H. Morris led an expedition in Navajo territory in 1931. His team found a cave filled with wooden flutes of the Anasazi people. This is a bit of a tangent, but it is fascinating. The earliest dated wooden flutes were made of boxelder and adorned with fibers and feathers from A.D 620–630.
The flute connection didn’t come to us until later in our research about this species of tree. Our story of it begins in Europe.
I approached the fern garden and because one of the boxelder branches was lower than normal, I had to bend to go under it. I’ve long suspected that this branch will come down by a storm and so far, it hasn’t. Pieces of the branch and other branches have, but somehow this low-hanging branch has been holding on. If it would lower itself more, I think Gus would eventually give it a go and climb it. He loves angled thick branches and trunks for climbing and I know he misses playing in the woods.
From several feet away, I could tell there were mushrooms growing on the branch along with the verdant moss. I got closer and wasn’t even thinking about the cracks in the trunk I was supposed to investigate. Moss has a hypnotic effect on me, so I was in a bit of a dreamy state. Because I had to bend down slightly to go under the branch, I was in a position for my peripheral vision to catch something that seemed odd. I had that “Spidey Sense” tingling in less than a second. I turned my head back and HOLY SHIT! THERE’S AN EAR!
I stepped backwards and somehow didn’t trip and fall on my ass while my eyes adjusted to what I was seeing. I felt like the branches of this tree had closed in on me. That couldn’t happen, right? Right?
My legs were working—thankfully I wasn’t on the ground like the Smoke Monster case—but I felt like I was trapped in a confined space. I could still see through the branches. Off in the distance was Gnome Grove just as it should have been. Why was I feeling stuck in place by this tree and what in the fuck are those ears?
At this point, I probably would have crapped my pants if I had already eaten my morning McVities digestives and coffee; but fortunately for me, I had not.
My legs felt like they could move as if I were an annoying French mime inside an invisible box. I turned in circles and called for Gus. He was busy. I’d say, “Oh, he can’t hear me,” except he can with his cat hearing advantage! I took control of my panic and fear and used what I had available: my cell phone and camera. If I’m going to be attacked and left for dead then the detectives can see the last things I photographed and the timestamp. That’s how a sane person thinks, yes?
I had difficulty getting the morning sun to light my subjects without turning the tree branch into a silhouette. I’m still not very good at this photography stuff. The auto settings of my phone’s camera worked better.
I didn’t see the splits in the tree trunk that day. As soon as I felt like I could break free, I hauled ass back towards Gus. By that point, Gus was having a discussion with Oliver in the patio.
“Thanks for not helping, guys!” I said.
Oliver spoke loudly while Gus rubbed against my ankles. “We could see you. You were fine.”
“And she calls us dramatic.” Gus tilted his head towards his partner.
We went inside so I could peel myself out of my soaking wet boots and socks, get my hot coffee and cookies, and go through the photographs. Gus and Ollie met me in the kitchen before all of us went upstairs to the offices.
“Look at this! Look! What the hell are those?” I frantically gestured at the computer screen after downloading the images.
The cat detectives studied the images while I stared at them looking for signs of recognition.
“They don’t all look like ears,” Gus said. “That one there looks like a penis.” There was a particular photo on the screen with what I’m assuming are immature growths that hadn’t blossomed into ears yet.
He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make the imagery any easier to look at. My jaw dropped. I didn’t know what to say. I sputtered and stuttered not making a bit of sense.
“Let’s drop them into the database and see if there are any matches.” Ollie spoke with a calm temperament for a change. When he has something to say, it’s usually loud, firm, and out of the blue. Now he was being the voice of reason. Calm, cool, and collected as the saying goes.
We began to research tree spirits. The results weren’t specific enough. We saw websites about an island where people carve lovely bas reliefs into the trunks. The word spirits brings back alcohol-related websites too. Nope, not what we need this time. Eventually, we got to the familiar forest deities, Dryads. These were also called wood nymphs. Their spirits resided either in a specific tree or over an area like a grove. These beings fall under the broad spectrum of fae so that’s where I’ll be filing this case.
The Greeks were certainly not the only people to have a relationship with tree or forest spirits. Basically, any place that has trees has folklore about them. Trying to suss information that wasn’t from video games was a challenge.
If you find a piece of cloth tied to a tree, leave it alone. Neopagans are continuing the practice of the Old Ways. According to Myth & Moor: “Called clouties or cloughties here in Devon and Cornwall, clooties in Scotland and the north of England, and clotties in Ireland, the term derives from local words for rags or strips of cloth.” These strips of cloth are tied as an acknowledgment or prayer to pay respect to the sacred tree. The prayers or spells can be specific requests usually for something like improvements in health for someone. These practitioners might also leave food offerings around the trees. It’s best to make sure whatever you’re leaving is biodegradable.
“That’s fascinating history,” Oliver said to me, “but it doesn’t explain the tree in these photos. There are no pieces of cloth, but clearly there is something living in it that wants attention.”
“This tree isn’t healthy,” I explained. “I wish I knew why, but most of our trees look sick and dying. Maybe that’s their age and they’ve come to their natural end. I don’t know.” Sadly, one of the few healthy trees—a black walnut—was chopped down in order to make improvements in the upper parking lot.
“You can’t reach the other branches without a ladder,” Gus said. “The best thing to do is leave offerings at the base of it.”
In a way, we already do that. When we’re out on adventures and patrol, I throw peanuts at the base of that tree and the one next to it because squirrels love it there. The blue jays will follow me over there too as they ask for more peanuts. Oliver decided to put the gnomes on the case. Gnomez Addams, Gnome Chomsky, and Sherlock Gnomes were given the assignment to make contact with the spirit of the boxelder tree and report back.
Case Findings:
The gnomes told us that the tree spirit wasn’t feeling well. The huge cracks from the storm and the breaking branches are causing it distress. The spirit would like to move on and leave that boxelder either to ascend to find another tree. About a week after this discovery, The Grumpy Old Man cut down that low-hanging branch with the ears. He plans to chop the rest of the tree down, but no plans have been scheduled yet. We think the tree spirit will be able to let go soon.
Case Status: Closed
Resources:
Goss, Clint. “Anasazi Flutes from the Broken Flute Cave.” Anasazi Flutes from the Broken Flute Cave, 7 June 2022, flutopedia.com/brokenflutecave.htm.
Windling, Terri. “The Blessings of the Trees.” Myth & Moor, 5 June 2015, www.terriwindling.com/blog/2015/06/the-blessings-of-the-trees.html.