American Beech (Fagus grandifolia)
The American Beech (Fagus grandifolia) is a tree with smooth, light grey bark which tolerates heavy shade. The tree has an unusual trait of holding on to its dried fall leaves throughout the winter, only to be pushed off with new spring growth.
In the wild, beech is commonly found in moist forests growing with sugar maple, and less often, in pure beech groves. Two to three “beechnuts” develop in each fruit—an angular shell covered with soft spines.
These are an important wildlife food source, with mature trees producing a large mast of nuts sought by several species of birds and mammals, both large and small.
Mamaw Shepherd
by Amy Viola Tipton
Viola Tackett Shepherd was an incredibly loving, resourceful, creative, and industrious woman. Married at the tender age of 16, she bore 10 and raised 9 children. At the time of her death in 2018 at the age of 95, her brood had expanded to 71 descendants including one great-great-great grandchild. Of these, I am honored to be one of her granddaughters and her sole namesake.
Mamaw had a green thumb that was beyond compare. In all of my visits, I cannot recall a single plant showing any sign of neglect. Her flower gardens were full of color; perennial beds hugged the house and outbuildings (including bright red oriental poppies, ostrich ferns, and old-fashioned tiger lilies which had been passed down to her), annuals filled containers on porches with pops of color, and her signature rock garden was covered in johnny-jump-ups which had volunteered annually for decades.
I can still picture Mamaw in her extensive vegetable gardens in her late 80s, bending to reach tomatoes, our family’s heirloom green beans, cucumbers, or squash; or leaning on the handle of her antique hoe to take a short rest. Mamaw canned hundreds of quarts of vegetables and fruits in the summer, but always had plenty of fresh produce to share with her frequent guests. My summer visits with her were spent stringing buckets full of beans and paring bushels of “June apples”; collecting blackberries from fields; playing in the creeks, and exploring the woods.
Time on the farm with my grandparents was magical and heavily influenced my adult path. Mamaw would tell me the names of the ferns, wildflowers, and trees we found when I visited. A large grove of ancient beech trees was one of our favorite spots. The trees were scarred from generations of carved initials, but still stately and strong. On one visit, she and I discovered frogs smaller than a fingernail hopping in mass on the fallen beech leaves. She talked about that day 35 years later during one of my last visits (just months prior to her passing).
Now my son, Ezra, and I explore the woods, name the plants, and search for tiny frogs. I dedicate this beech tree to my Mamaw’s memory so that Ezra and others can see the type of tree that she and I enjoyed together. Look down…you might be lucky enough to find a frog!
