The tamaracks that were barely noticeable in the forest all year long now take centre stage.
Their soft, burnt orange needles provide a bright contrast to the clear blue sky. Being complementary colours (set opposite one another on the colour wheel), orange and blue look especially vibrant together in the autumn landscape.
Tamaracks don’t mind wet, boggy soil. Their Ojibway name, muckigwatig, means ‘swamp tree.’ They thrive in Cow Bay wherever there is little competition for sunshine with other trees. These deciduous conifers are tolerant of extreme cold. Their delicate appearance often enhances residential landscapes in northern regions.
The inner bark of tamaracks is edible and has many medicinal uses among Native Americans, among them, treating burns, wounds, inflammations and headaches. It’s also a favourite of porcupines.
Along Bissett Road, which has extensive stands of tamaracks on both sides, it’s no wonder that porcupines are a frequent item on the roadkill café menu. I’ve crossed paths with them twice in as many weeks, but both times managed to see these slow walkers in time to yield.
It won’t be long before the tamaracks shed their needles for the winter and once again fade into the background of the forest. But for now, it’s tamarack time.
For more information about tamarack trees, see The Last of Autumn’s Leaves and Needles
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Flandrum Hill 
Nice post – art, history, flora and fauna under a blue sky. I like muckigwatig. And I like tamaracks, too!
Gerry, that tree certainly has some interesting names. I had never heard of its ‘hackmatack’ name until Kathy called it that.
I think I said this on Kathy’s blog, but tamaracks are one of my favorites at this time of year with their misty gold just about the only color. I like them in the spring, too, when they’re just a subtle shade of pale green. Thanx for sharing them from your neck of the woods!
Cindy, have you ever seen their purplish pink cones before they turn brown in the spring? Now that’s a sight to behold.
No, I haven’t but will definitely check them out this spring! They sound lovely!
They can be found here in Ontario but aren’t that common around Peterborough. I’ve always loved Tamaracks and now I know a bit more about them. thanks.
You’re welcome Sybil 🙂
Interesting!
I just realized that I’d better take my camera out with me tomorrow and the get last of my fall photos! Weather forecast: Two days of sun, followed by at least 5 days of rain! Many of the leaves are down already, but I hope I can find some varieties that still have their autumn outfits on!
Joan, it happens so fast. A few quick rains and some wind and before you know it, all the trees are totally bare. But don’t feel rushed. Bare branches and tree silhouettes can make beautiful photos too.
Hi, I saw your comment on Jessica’s blog, and followed you here!
Your post brings back good memories of a trip to NS this time last year, staying on St Margaret’s Bay. The tamaracks were stunning to a foreigner like me, dotting the marshes throughout the province.
I took a drive to your area, but wished I had more time. Lovely blog!
http://kingsdownkent.blogspot.com/2008/11/west-dover-st-margarets-bay.html
Thanks for stopping by Steve. St Margaret’s Bay is quite the popular place with tourists. My sons go scuba diving there. There’s certainly a lot to see in Nova Scotia.
The tamaracks are so beautiful this time of year. I mean breath-takingly beautiful. Didn’t know the Ojibway name, though. Will there be a quiz?
No quiz Kathy 🙂 Their Ojibway name may pass from memory but not their beauty.
Oh, I feel so bad about losing the tamarack we had on the land where we built our “always” home, 27 years ago! It was one of two “named”, sizable trees which we had to remove to site the house with the least ecological damage.
We consulted with the graduate arborist and it and a large willow had to “go”. The last tree was a sapling of “something”, but, in return we nurtured and protected the 6 specimen trees and the rabble around them, for the 20+ years we were privileged to live there, before we “lost” our home.
It was an amazing 19,000 sq. ft piece of land (1/2 acre +). On it lived a “young” Sequoia (already more than 12 feet in girth and more than 40 feet high; a “mature, spreading Japanese maple; a statuesque White Pine; a huge “matching size pair” of a Lodgepole Pine and a Ponderosa pine — each protecting the flanks of the redwood. And, lastly, a massive Oregon Myrtle (California Bay) tree, whose wondrous branches provided an easy tree for my child to enjoy.
The Lodgepole was the only tree we “naturally” lost (to the same beetle damage which is killing pines in Eastern Oregon). It was heart-wrenching to lose a huge tree after decades of meticulous care.
The false cedar, wild cherrys, understory of native shrubs and vine maples, elderberry, hawthorne, holly (not native and it was one we tried to eliminate — wow! do they make babies all over the place), filbert, cedars, and more were a delight.
Being that we planted many more trees than we took, I hadn’t felt bad, but I did not see the fall colors from the tamarack, as we began building in August. Many of the trees on “our” land were not meant to be in our latitudes, and that made their success even more wondrous. The land had it’s own perfect micro-niche on the western flank of the “West Hills” in Portland.
My mind and heart still walk that patch of unusual and native forest, and I pray it is always in good hands.
Best to all — Em
Em, it’s so easy to get attached to trees that we see every day around our homes, especially after watching them grow for almost three decades! Their place in the landscape is held secure in our memories, long after we’ve moved away from their surroundings.
It is amazing how some of these non-native species thrive in colder climates. You’re blessed to have so many wonderful memories of trees. So many people have never developed such close relationships with them.