Saturday, September 24, 2016

Habits and Peculiarities

I love library book sales. Richard and I have developed the peculiar habit of seeking them out and spending hours poring over row upon row, table after table, of books. In addition to the sheer pleasure of being present to so many great works, this has proven to be a great way to add to my personal library of trees and natural history.

I love the sense of community that brings book lovers together, politely sidling past one another, waiting patiently to peruse THAT stack. I love the care taken to sort selections into categories, to handle each and every book so mindfully, and then place it where it is most likely to be found by its new reader. I love the watchful attendants who work the room straightening the field guides, tightening up the row of historical novels, tidying up the stories about animals. I love the check-out Friends of the Library who quickly tally the total while offering an extra bag to even out my load. I love that I can roam the room for hours, select anything that catches my fancy, and keep looking for just one more volume on my chosen interests. I love the inner satisfaction that I've supported a worthy cause - the Library - and I've supported another worthy cause - reading hard copy! And I love that, at the end of the day, I can curl up in the recliner and get lost in another good book.

Among the many titles I picked up this morning is "Our Native Trees and How to Identify Them: A Popular Study of Their Habits and Their Peculiarities" by Harriet Keeler. As if the first part of this title wouldn't grab my attention, how could I pass by the subtitle? Now to find more shelf space...

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Sugar Maple

Sugar Maple (Acer sacharrum) is one of seven species of the Acer genus that grow in Maine's forests. Six of these "typical" maples (A. saccharumA. saccharinumA. rubrumA. platinoidesA. pensylvanicum, and A. spicatum) have opposite arrangement of their simple leaves and buds. Other trees with opposite features include the ashes, red-osier and flowering dogwoods, the viburnums, and horse-chestnuts. The other thing that these six maples have in common is their palmate venation - the leaf veins originate from a central point at the base of the leaf and fan out, sort of like your fingers fanning out from the palm of your hand. The other vein arrangement is pinnate, like a feather where the veins branch outward all along the central mid-vein. Finally, the maple fruit is a double-winged indehiscent samara. In addition to the six typical maples is Boxelder (A. negundo) which has compound leaves which are oppositely arranged - it also bears the double-winged samara.

So, how do you tell a Sugar Maple from the other simple-leaved maples? From late spring through autumn, you can distinguish it by its leaf margins. Maple leaves are lobed which means there are distinct indentations that don't go all the way to the mid-veins. The leaf depicted here has three large lobes with two smaller lobes at its base. The other simple-leaved maples will have 3-5 lobes with  palmate venation, but the  notches and margins will differ. At the base of each lobe where it meets the next one, the part that reaches toward the center of the leaf is a sinus. The sinus is distinctly "U" shaped on Sugar Maple (A. saccharum) and Norway Maple (A. platanoides). The sinus is notched like a "V" on the leaves of Mountain Maple (A. spicatum) and Red Maple (A. rubrum). Striped Maple (A. pensylvanicum) is fairly "V" notched, and Silver Maple (A. sacharrinum) is very deeply and "U" notched. You can distinguish Sugar Maple from Norway Maple leaves by breaking the leaf stem from the twig and looking for a milky white sap on Norway Maple. 

In winter you can look at bark and buds. Sugar Maple bark is different from Norway Maple - the former has broad ridges whereas the latter has narrowly spaced ridges and furrows. Bark is a little tricky because young, middle-aged, and mature trees have different textures. Striped Maple bark is vertically striped and the tree doesn't get very tall. To me, Sugar Maple's broad ridges don't seem to curl as much as with mature Red Maple or Striped Maple. I don't have much experience looking at the bark of Mountain Maple. The oppositely arranged buds also yield clues. Sugar Maple buds are dark brown and very pointed though not excessively long. Red Maple and Silver Maple buds are rounded and red. Mountain Maple buds are pointed, short-stalked, and green to red in color. Striped maple buds are distinctly stalked. Norway Maple scales are large. 



Sunday, September 18, 2016

On being a naturalist: time, tools, and territory

Being a naturalist, regardless of your approach or perspective, requires a certain amount of time, the right tools, and staking out your territory. Well, that's what I think everyone needs. The list can be longer, more complex, or centered on just one aspect like journals, birds, or wildflowers. For me it still comes down to time, tools, and territory if a I hope to gain a deep understanding of the natural world.

Time: There's never quite enough of it, and it slips by all too quickly. Honing my naturalist skills is balanced by work (which provides funds for naturalist books and tools), getting to the gym (slow walking doesn't burn off the calories), and social activities (grandkids' sports, music, and dance get priority, family gatherings a close second, and of course, time with the hubster). A really good day might be stopping to gather leaves on my way to soccer, going to a library book sale with the hubster for more naturalist books, or walking in the woods with family or friends. More often than not, it's taking the time to stop when I see a tree of interest on my way somewhere else. Occasionally it's an intentional outing or study group with naturalist peers. Long-term planning for each month, quarter, or the coming year is another way to maintain my goal of becoming a really good naturalist. 

Tools: A hand lens, binoculars, a pencil, and my journal are really the most important tools that I need to be a good naturalist. I'm able to look closely under magnification, see detail from a distance, and record my observations, thoughts, and questions. I'm fortunate to also have a LOT of field guides, books, and access to the internet to help me figure out what I'm seeing and to better understand natural processes. A sturdy field bag is another good tool - big enough but not too big, lots of pockets, comfortable over my shoulder. Someday I hope to have a dissecting microscope, but I've managed pretty well without one thus far.

Territory; I've nearly outgrown the corner of our house where I store my collections, pore over specimens, and prepare teaching materials. We manage to mostly keep up with chores in our common areas (kitchen, living room) and leave each other's office space alone. I have to admit that leaves, twigs, laminating materials, and books regularly escape my assigned space and I'll need to make some other arrangements soon - renting a studio perhaps. Outside I regularly tromp around the trails behind our house or the trails at the Arboretum across the street from where I work. There, I see seasonal changes unfold, and almost always find something brand new to pique my curiosity and broaden my understanding. 

Time, tools, and territory. Good for anyone who is serious about studying and gaining expertise in a particular area whether it's a naturalist, musician, artist, chef.... anyone.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Human relationships in nature

I had an idea this past week, to use naturalist quotes at critical transitions during the graduation festivities of the latest group of Maine Master Naturalist students. I was drawing from the class's assigned reading list and thought I'd find quotes appropriate for breaking bread together, for collaborative study, and for celebrating one another's achievements. What I found was a lot of individual's writings about their experiences with elements of nature - observations of a firefly, insights on the behavior of a porcupine, or seasonal changes of a maple tree. Although these are important topics that help us better understand the natural world, and though I know there are other works that do indeed bring human relationships into the discussion, it made me think more deeply about establishing and nurturing our human relationships as we figure out what it means to be a naturalist.

Generally, a naturalist can be defined as an expert in, or a student of, natural history. Myself, I fit into the student category with aspirations of becoming more well versed in a particular topic or two while being conversant in others. This seems to characterize most of my fellow naturalists who have graduated from the Maine Master Naturalist Program. Another quality of my peers is to strengthen and engage in shared, collective learning through book clubs, impromptu study groups, and trail walks during the year. Hurrah for MMNP whose goal is to "create an ever-widening ripple, a network of citizen-naturalist volunteers who share their knowledge, insights and enthusiasm about Maine's varied natural communities to a broad array of individuals." It's the network that captures my interest right now.

Being a naturalist means many things to many people but at it's core I think it's a blending of natural science and social science. In my corner of the world, we naturalists are part of a dynamic network of individuals that go out of network for a time to make personal observations and take time to reflect - and then return to the fold to share what we've seen, heard, and experienced - and then move along within the fold to learn and experience more through each other's eyes. That's the piece I missed in the small sub-set of books I reviewed - the human interactions. If I used these half-dozen books to model my naturalist behavior, I'd be living a solitary life indeed.

Now, I know that naturalists, including the authors of this short list of books, have relationships in which they share their observations. Edwin Way Teale's naturalist travels included his wife and the many friends and colleagues that they visited from coast to coast. I like reading about the building and nurturing of the relationships that go along with identifying, documenting, and modeling the technical aspects of being a naturalist. To experience our human connections with the natural world, but to also connect with other like-minded souls within those experiences.

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Color of the week - RED

Today's color is red - one that will be making more of an appearance as the calendar marches on through September toward October. This pigment can show up in different plant parts as red or red-related colors of purple or blue. In flowers, colors and patterns may attract pollinators or alert herbivores to stay away from toxins. During the growing season, leaves and stems often show more green than anything else since chlorophyll, another pigment, is readily produced to use in photosynthesis. In spring and fall with less chlorophyll production, other pigments such as the red anthocyanins or yellow xanthophylls dominate. Red anthocyanins may also act as a sunscreen to lend some protection to plants. How many shades of red can you find in your back yard?

 The bright vermillion petioloes of Red Maple (Acer rubrum) caught my eye when I got out of work yesterday afternoon. Many of the leaves on this tree are already drying out and losing their greenness.
 In passing, these brambles sport maroon tinted twigs. The leaves are showing a lot of end-of-the-season wear and tear.
 Ruby twigs are readily apparent and striking against the white berries of Red-osier Dogwood (Cornus sericea). Note this genus' arcuate leaf veins - a great diagnostic - and the opposite leaves and buds which help identify the species.
Staghorn Sumac's (Rhus hirta) leaves are beginning to reveal crimson pigments. Staghorn Sumac is a good example of shrub vs. tree: multiple woody stems less than 3" diameter and less than 15' in height. It's also a good example of compound leaves - the bud forms at the base of the leaf on the twig, but there are no buds or swellings at the base of the leaflets. 


Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Aspen and poplar - what's in a name?

What's in a name? Plants are named by way of binomial nomenclature - a first and last name - expressed as Genus species or Genus species. If John Smith were a plant, for example, its name would be Smith john, either in italics or underlined to give the reader a heads-up on its taxonomic status.

This binomial nomenclature can be referred to as a scientific, technical, or Latin name but I recently came across the term botanical name which makes the most sense for me. Scientific or technical seem daunting to the lay person, and Latin may or may not be accurate since it may be a variation of a Latin word, a Greek word, or something Latinized from Greek. So, botanical name is the term for me since it's a botanical specimen that I'll be discussing. Binomial nomenclature is used for animals, too, so I'll have to think about that.

Plants may also go by a number of common names, some of which they might share with another plant or two. Trees in the Populus genus go by poplar and aspen, for example. While multiple or shared common names can lead to some confusion when attempting to discuss a tree, the botanical name gets you directly to the species of interest. The Forest Trees of Maine describes three Populus species: P. tremuloides, P. grandidentata, and P. balsamifera. You may find others that have been planted in parks or urban developed areas but if you learn these three, you'll be well on your way to recognizing other trees in this genus and distinguishing them from the Maine forest tree species.

P. tremuloides and P. grandidentata go by the common name aspen and have some similarities that distinguish them from P. balsamifera which goes by the common name poplar. See the chart below for some key characteristics. This photo shows P. tremuloides (upper left), P. balsamifera (upper right), and P. grandidentata (bottom). The darker leaves are the upper side, and the lighter leaf shows the underside.


Trembling aspen (P. tremuloides) gets its name from its leaves that tremble, or shake, in the wind thanks to its flattened petioles. Big-toothed aspen (P. grandidentata) also shakes in the wind, but gets its common name from its leaves' large, coarsely toothed margin. Balsam poplar (P. balsamifera) is also known as Balm-of-Gilead but balsam poplar is also used interchangeably with cottonwood (P. deltoides) - the balm is made from the sticky buds.

P. tremuloides
P. grandidentata
P. balsamifera
Petiole, in cross-section
Flattened
Flattened
Round
Distribution
Statewide
Statewide

Shade tolerance
Intolerant
Somewhat tolerant

Mature bark
Smooth top, ridged below
Smooth top, ridged below
Smooth top, ridged below
Alternate leaves
Round, short-pointed, finely toothed
Broadly egg-shaped, coarsely toothed
Ovate, fine round teeth, rusty blotches below
Buds
Dark brown, shiny, sticky
Dull gray, slightly hairy, not sticky
Resinous, sticky
Flowers
Catkins before leaves
Catkins before leaves
Catkins before leaves
Wood (see linked article for more info)
Close-grained, soft, little scent
Close-grained, soft, little scent
Coarser-grained, foul odor when green



Monday, September 12, 2016

Do you want to learn more about trees?

Maine Trees, Top to Bottom is for anyone interested in trees - beginners, back-yard naturalists, and more serious enthusiasts. The variety of student backgrounds leads to lively discussions and shared learning (I always learn something new) based on published literature, direct observations, and oral traditions. If you're interested in trees and want to know more about them, this class is for you!

The class has evolved over the years and will continue to develop in its format and its teaching tools. Building on the Forest Trees of Maine and Natural Landscapes of Maine, the six-week class is designed to equip students to identify the tree species that characterize Maine's forest communities. Learn to use dichotomous keys and understand botanical terms as you look at trees close up and from a distance.

Currently, Maine Trees, Top to Bottom is structured into six two-hour sessions. Each session introduces a couple of tree related topics and includes hands-on specimen identification (leaves, twigs, bark, fruit, flowers) as well as outdoor practice on trees surrounding the venue. As might be expected, topics range from roots-soil upward to trunk-nutrient transport to leaves-canopy. Though trees are the focus, we also bring in discussion of natural communities and the relationship between trees and the animals that live in those communities.

Interested? Watch for the spring calendar at Lewiston Auburn Senior College. You can also bring Maine Trees, Top to Bottom to a place near you as a six-week class or as a four-hour introductory session. For more information, contact treestoptobottom@gmail.com.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Flat-faced bark of Basswood

Basswood (Tilia americana) is more common in our area than I ever imagined when I began studying botany in general, and trees in particular.

A tree has many features that are useful in identification. The first feature most of us see is the bark, though that's often discounted because a) the leaves get most of the publicity and b) many of the barks look the same. Until I read BARK: A Field Guide to the Northeast, I mainly relied on the leaves, considered the twigs and buds, and only rarely took much note of the trunk standing literally right before my eyes.

One of the challenges in using bark as an ID tool is that most trees have a youthful, mid-age, and mature form. Even after reading BARK, I tended to group mature trees into one of three categories: smooth (like beech), peeling (like paper or silver birch), or ridged-furrowed (a huge group including oak, maple, elm, pine, hemlock and many, many more).

Basswood bark had, in my mind, gotten lost in the ridged-furrowed group. Yesterday, however, I learned a new character to its ridges that I expect will make this species easier to identify. The furrows are shallow, and the ridge face is flat. Also, the ridge-furrows run vertically up the trunk in long linear patterns. Basswood leaves are also pretty distinctive with their heart-shaped asymmetrical base and light-colored bracts that highlight the tiny flowers.

Trees are part of, and largely define, natural communities by giving the community vertical structure and also lending a name - White Pine Forest, Red Maple Swamp, or Pitch Pine Woodland for example. Basswood is characteristic of a Maple - Basswood - Ash Forest which you can read about here: http://www.maine.gov/dacf/mnap/features/communities/maplebassashforest.htm.
Learning more about the different features of each tree, as well as those with which it is often associated in a particular landscape, makes it easier to pick out of a crowded forest or woodland.

Sunday, September 4, 2016

Big-toothed Aspen

Big-toothed Aspen (Populus grandidentata) is fairly abundant around our house, lining the discontinued dead-end dirt road on which we live and showing up occasionally along the paved nearly-two-lane back roads. Fifty years or so ago, pastures and hay fields characterized farmland whereas only a few open farm fields remain today. Where the Big-toothed Aspen stand, you can see the fairly even ground in contrast with more dramatic hummocks and hollows pocked with boulders in less accessible areas of the forest.

In an early successional forest, pioneer species such as Big-toothed Aspen (P. grandidentata), Quaking Aspen (P. tremuloides), Gray Birch (Betula populifolia), and Paper Birch (B. papyrifera), establish where there is abundant sunlight after a landscape has been disturbed by fire, agriculture, or logging. Over time, other tree species take root and reach up into the canopy, out-competing the pioneers who are intolerant to shade.


Most of the Big-toothed Aspen's branching occurs high in the canopy where the leaves reach for solar energy used by chlorophyll to convert carbon dioxide (from the air) and dissolved minerals (from the roots) into sugars (photosynthesis). Oxygen is released in the process which makes plants, in general, a nice complement to us humans who exchange the oxygen for carbon dioxide.


The Big-toothed Aspen leaves flutter in the wind, a function of the flattened petioles (leaf stems). A side note, the fluttering gives this tree's Genus-mate Quaking Aspen (P. tremuloides) its common name as well as its species designation. Another side note, a third Populus species, Balsam Poplar (P. balsamifera) has a rounder petiole that does not catch the wind in such a shaking manner.  You might notice that aspen and poplar are used interchangeably for this genus.



Moving down the Big-toothed Aspen's trunk you might notice that the bark is very light-colored, like Paper Birch or Gray Birch. Closer inspection reveals a slight greenish tinge from chlorophyll that allows the bark to photosynthesize, a little bit anyway. On a Paper Birch, the white bark peels horizontally in thin strips that you'll never see on a Big-toothed Aspen or Gray Birch. Paper Birch and Gray Birch have lateral black lines, lenticels, that allow for gas exchange. The Big-toothed Aspen lenticels are more diamond-shaped, like little stars. The birches have a black chevron where the branches come out from the trunk - not as prominent on the Big-toothed Aspen.


If you follow the trunk down to the ground, you might be surprised to find the bark transitions to furrows and ridges! The ridges are quite distinctively chunky on older trees (see photo below with pencil for scale). On tall but less mature trees (like the photo on the right, below), the bark has been described as "zebra-like" with a light colored base laced with emerging, darker ridges.


And, of course, there's always the leaf. In spite of its tattered appearance, it's easy to confirm this aspen's identity and its names, both common and technical - Big-toothed Aspen, Populus grandidentata!


Saturday, September 3, 2016

The White Oak Group


This fall, one of my quests is to collect leaves from all eight oak species that can be found in Maine forests. There are four in the black oak group: Northern Red Oak (Quercus rubra), Black Oak (Q. velutina), Scarlet Oak (Q. coccinea), and Bear Oak (Q. ilicifolia). Four more are grouped as white oak: White Oak (Q. alba), Chestnut Oak (Q. prinus), Bur Oak (Q. macrocarpa) and Swamp White Oak (Q. bicolor). Black oak leaves have bristly lobe tips, and the acorns take two years to mature while white oaks have rounded lobes or teeth with acorns maturing every year.

Thus far the teaching collection includes specimens from Northern Red Oak, Scarlet Oak, White Oak, and Swamp White Oak - halfway there!

The question today is what species of oak is represented by the leaves and bark pictured. Situated in a planted community, the tree is labeled White Oak (Q. alba). However, the Forest Trees of Maine describe White Oak leaves as dull above with rounded lobes, and the bark as having broad, flat, flaky ridges - neither of which seems to match up to this tree. Years ago I might have walked away thinking, "Okay, this is an atypical White Oak" but nowadays I question everything (especially myself). My goal isn't to discount someone else's work but rather to firm up my own understanding. So I'll bring you along on today's quest and questions - perhaps you'll weigh in with thoughts or answers.

First, what do I see? For me, direct observations in the field and photographs for later reference are the first step in identification. Instead of taking a field guide or key and trying to fit a specimen into that format, I attempt to learn by looking first at the features in front of me. Here's what I noted:
  • Acorns: still forming, will continue to watch them develop. All eight oaks develop acorns: the black oak group takes two years to mature while the white oak group's acorns mature every year. This tree's acorns are still forming so I'll check back frequently over the next month or so for developments.
  • Buds: still forming, will continue to watch. Winter buds begin developing at the leaf base during the summer. Breaking off the leaf doesn't reveal anything definitive yet so this is another feature I'll track over the next few weeks.
  • Leaves: alternate, simple, lacking lobes, rounded "teeth" without bristly tips, deep glossy green above, wedge-shaped base. The rounded edges definitely put this leaf into the white oak group - no bristly tips. Not distinctly lobed like White Oak or Bur Oak, this can be narrowed down to either Chestnut Oak or Swamp White Oak - if we believe it to be a Maine tree. A planted grove may include other species so there's a possibility that it's a non-Maine native or a hybrid.
  • Bark: deep fissures with orange at fissure base, irregular chunky ridges, gray-brown. 
Now let's compare observations and photo documentation with keys and field guides.
White Oak
Quercus alba
Short-stalked (F)
Cup bowl-shaped covering 1/3 or less of acorn (P)
2-4 times longer than acorn cup, hairless (F)
End-buds red-brown, small, blunt, hairless (P)
Hairless (P)
Dull upper, rounded lobes (F)
Evenly lobed, hairless, somewhat white below (P)
Broad flat ridges, flaky (F)
Whitish, furrows broken into rectangular blocks (B)
Whitish, slightly furrowed to scaly (P)
Chestnut Oak
Q. prinus
3 times as long as cup, long & wrinkled (F)
Cup bowl-shaped, tight scales free only at tip, < 1” across (P)
Sharp-pointed, broadly ovoid, hairless (F)
End-buds narrow, sharp, > 3/16” (P)

Hairless (P)
Shiny upper, shallow rounded lobes (F)
7-16 pair of rounded teeth, leathery, slightly hairy below (P)
Deeply furrowed (F)
Firm flat-topped ridges broken horizontally into irregular blocks with crisp square edges – corrugated & angular (B)
Dark, deeply ridged (P)
Bur Oak
Q. macrocarpa
2 times as long as cup, margin fringed with long hair-like scales, short-stalked (F)
Bowl-shaped with fringe of elongate scales (P)
Broad ovoid, blunt or sharp-pointed, coated with soft hairs (F)
End-buds blunt and hairy, > 3/16” (P)
Yellow-brown, hairless to hairy; branchlets may have corky wings (P)
Dark green & shiny upper, violin shaped (F)
At least one pair indentations divide leaves into 2 or more portions, somewhat hairy & whitish below (P)

Deeply furrowed, flaky (F)
Deeply furrowed, rough scaly ridges are not flaky, thick irregular blocks (B)
Light gray, shallowly grooved (P)
Swamp White Oak
Q. bicolor
3 times as long as cup, margins fringed with scales, long-stalked (F)
Bowl-shaped cup with stalks longer than leaf-stalks (P)

Roundish, blunt-pointed, hairless (F)
Brown end-buds small, blunt, hairless (P)
Hairless (P)
Dark green dull upper, slightly lobed (F)
4-6 pair of large rounded teeth, sometimes shallow lobes, wedge-shaped base, white-hairy beneath (P)
Deeply fissured, broad flat ridges, flaky, inner bark orange (F)
Irregular furrows, narrow scaly ridges broken into horizontal blocks (B)
Light gray, ridged or flaky (P)
F  = Maine Forest Service. 1908 (rev 2008). ForestTrees of Maine. Maine Department of Conservation.
B = Wojtech, Michael. 2011. Bark: A Field Guide to Trees of the Northeast. Hanover: University Press of New England.
P = Petrides, George A. 1958 (1972 2nd ed). A Field Guide to Trees and Shrubs. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company.



Buds and acorns on the planted species will yield information toward making a definitive identification. The shiny upper leaf with 8-9 pair of lobes suggests Chestnut Oak. Now off to southern Maine in search of field species to compare with those planted.



UPDATE: Here are leaves seen on a sapling at Mt. Agamenticus where the Maine Natural Areas Program's Natural Landscapes of Maine has documented Chestnut Oak as a natural community. Though the Mt. Agamenticus Wildlife Management Area does not allow specimen collection, I was able to get this photo to use as comparison with the planted specimen above - what do you think?

Thursday, September 1, 2016

First thing first

The first thing to know about trees is, what is a tree? Sounds like a simple question but go ahead, if you haven't thought about this before - what makes a tree a tree? This is one of the very first questions asked at Maine Trees, Top to Bottom.

Trees live for many, many years - decades and sometimes centuries. From its seedling start to its sapling stage and then as a young tree, it keeps reaching for sunshine at its top, stretching its roots through the soil at its bottom, and adding growth rings to its trunk. Shrubs also live for many years, but the above-ground parts of herbaceous plants (grasses, ferns, wildflowers) die back at the end of each season.

A tree has a single stem, unlike shrubs which have multiple stems at their bases. There are a few considerations to make here. For example, in a post-harvest forest you might find several stump-sprout trees coming out of one base, like the photo to the right. This happens after the original tree is cut down and a few dormant buds emerge and send up new main stems (trunks). Another scenario is where Gray Birch (Betula populifolia) or poplar/aspen may propagate vegetatively, that is, underground so you get a small grove of the same species. In both cases, think about the tree species and whether you'd usually, or ever, see it growing as a single-trunk tree. It is not uncommon to see a single Gray Birch or a lone Trembling Aspen (Populus tremuloides). Shrubs ALWAYS have multiple stems no matter where or when you see them - think of staghorn sumac, lilacs, or highbush blueberry.

A tree has a woody stem, unlike fibrous herbaceous plants. A woody stem persists year after year, adding more growth to the tips of the branches and roots, and more growth to the girth of its trunk. An example of a fibrous non-woody plant is blackberry whose dried canes persist through the winter, but new growth comes up every spring.

Size is another consideration when distinguishing trees from other plants. Mature trees are generally taller than 15 feet and have a diameter of more than 3 inches. Of course, tree seedlings and saplings won't meet these criteria but they will have single woody stems, and it's likely there are mature representatives in the same area. So that's it - a tree has a single woody stem and at maturity is taller than 15 feet with a diameter greater than 3 inches.