Snagging Some Dogwood

     *An Entry from Mid-April*

     It started as a joke between my Dad and me, as I was figuring out how to fish for trout in Northern, Lower Michigan.  I was over 30 years old at the time.  Without even realizing it, I had grown up surrounded by the headwaters of three "Blue Ribbon" trout streams.  It took going away for college, and then being married while living and working in another state, for me to realize what was there.  Not that I took it for granted, or missed out on taking advantage of the many other perks that the north-woods countryside had to offer.  It was just that when I would come back to visit my parents I needed that connection to where I had grown up.  I had tried trout fishing a few times when I was younger but I was a bit too short, in some hiked up waders (held up with a black bungee cord), and I never really caught anything.  It was those factors which led me back to panfish and whatever else would take my bait, when I did have a chance to get out.
     Once I started trout fishing as an adult, I was hooked.  The irony was that although I may have lacked the concentration early on, it required every ounce of it where my Dad reintroduced me to running waters.  Those headwater creeks were small waters to fish.  It took patience, planning and precision.  The creeks were full of stumps, roots and sticks from the white cedar, balsam, spruce, and hemlock.  Those trees didn't compare, however, to the bank willows, tag alder and red osier dogwood.  For every good pitch and cast from my pole, at least a half dozen of them wound up around some twig, or snagged a branch or leaf.  The joke between my Dad and I was that no matter what the species was that snagged our spinner, it was most likely an alder or dogwood; or at least that's what we called it regardless.  If nothing else, it provided us with a chance to practice great casts with our spinners.
     And now I'm planting red osier dogwood in my yard.  I can identify it now by sight, no matter the season, with or without leaves.  After the drought during the summer of 2012, we lost roughly 80% of the arbor vitae bushes along our west-side lot line.  After a few summers of cutting the dead evergreens out, digging out the stumps, and burning it all in my fire pit, I was ready to replace the plants.  I decided to go with plants that were native to Northern Illinois.  This past fall I put in two sections of a triple, split-rail fence.  It would provide the rustic backdrop for a noninvasive border, while giving me areas to plant native plants and bushes that are designed for our environment and climate.
     I had transplanted staghorn sumac and red osier dogwood around the yard at our prior home; from a wood line of a farm just inside the Stateline in Southern Wisconsin.  I wanted to do that again, but I needed to find some I could dig up first.  These species form colonies in the form of clumps, by sending up new shoots from their root structures.  I simply needed to find out where some dogwood existed around here that I might have access to.

     Some friends that live nearby, and have some wooded areas, invited me to come walk their property in search of the red osier dogwood.

In the past I've collected rocks from their farm fields to use in my landscaping; this was simply another adventure in a different form.  The wooded sections are marshy, lowland areas; so I wore rubber boots over the course of two different days to get back into some areas where I might find it growing.  On the south-side of a small, trickling creek from where I'd found a stand of it two years ago (to replace some spirea bushes with it in the backyard alongside the house), I found two mother plants of the red osier dogwood.  From these, several satellite shoots were growing forth.  The satellites of this species of plant either come from the root structures themselves, or branches from the mother plant that get pushed down into the soil and begin to take root.  It was from one of these plants that I gathered the shoots for transplanting.  It was hard work.  It was muddy work.  I was covered in muck; both from digging out the shoots and then hauling it through the woods and back to my Jeep.  The clumps of dirt surrounding the roots were heavy and saturated.  I had found them before they had sprouted; an important aspect for the success of the transplant.  As an act of goodwill, I freed the remaining mother plants of choking grapevine, while hacking back the ever pressing honeysuckle. 

Mother Plant #1

 

Mother Plant#2

Furthermore, I took some shoots in the form of branches and thrust them into the soggy ground in the hopes that they might perpetuate their species just outside of the mother plant’s arms.  I also planted one of the larger bushes I had gotten, on the edge of the property owners pond.  It truly was the least I could do for the opportunity to bring home what I had found.
     Once home, I planted several of the red osier dogwood plants along our lot line

between the sections of the new split-rail fence.  I went back the next night and got some more from the second mother plant I had found.  By the time I had finished digging it out that night, it was dusk, and so I left it by the pond to retrieve the following evening after school.  The second load was so tall that I had to tie down the back hatch of my Jeep because the tops were sticking out the rear.  

     All in all it was back breaking work; but it was fun to explore, locate and then be able to get some shoots while leaving the main plant to continue doing what it does.  Plus, it saved on having to go buy plants from a nursery.  Granted, the plants are often times a bit scraggly and rough; but you would expect that from native plants that have been living and surviving in the wild.  They'll thrive in the open air, now that they don't have to compete for sunlight and nutrients with other bushes and trees growing tightly around them.  It's the red osier's wildness that attracts me to it.
     With all of the work I've been doing on the landscaping around our house, I may have to resort to casting a spinner in the yard to practice fishing; in lieu of actually going fishing.  If I'm lucky, perhaps I'll snag a red osier dogwood.
See you along The Way...