All the Study Trees that ever were (if chosen more than 10 years ago)

Photo of impressive Red Oak, one of the Macoun Club's study trees

Katherine Kitching’s biggest Study Tree, a massive Red Oak she chose in 1992, in 2021

The Macoun Club launched its Study-Tree project in the autumn of 1991. All these trees are in a 10-acre hardwood forest on the west side of the Macoun Field Club’s nature-study-area in Ottawa’s western greenbelt (Stony Swamp). Almost every Macoun member since then (and this is 2022) has chosen one or more trees. We don’t mark them in any way, yet to this day, Rob Lee knows those trees by the names of the kids who chose them. He keeps track of them, too. and this page brings you up to date. But only for trees chosen before 10 years ago, at which point those kids would now be over age 18 and it would be OK to use their full names.

Some children pick other things to “study” such as a moss or sedge clump, a boulder or a seasonal pond in the woods, and these too are acceptable within the limits of the project.

If you have gone back but weren’t been able to find your tree, contact Rob at macoun@ofnc.ca.

Trees that were alive when chosen, and for as long as they live, even if just barely, they are featured in green type. Those that have either died, or were dead, or were even logs when chosen, appear in reddish-brown type.

The people who chose the trees are listed in alphabetical order. Click on the following letters to advance to the first names beginning with that letter:

A B
D E G
H I J
K L M
N P R
S T V
W

Aaron Lynch’s White Birch: Chosen Nov. 22, 1992, when it had great curls of loose bark hanging down one side. It was found to be dead in the summer of 2006. Only one roll of loose bark remained, just out of reach of destructive humans. In the summer of 2014, we found that the trunk had broken 14 feet up, just above a band of bark damaged long ago by a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. In late May, 2016, the stub still stood, but half of the bark had fallen away.
Adam Ryan’s Basswood: A clump, chosen Oct. 17, 1992. In August, 2011, three of the trees were doing well and had grown to be 6, 14 and 16 inches in diameter. By the summer of 2014, two members of the clump had died and fallen down, one of them still in flower in June. It, too, was dead the following year. But in 2016, the smallest trunk and two saplings we hadn’t taken note of — 4, 5, an 6 inches in diameter — were growing vigorously.
Adamo Young’s Sugar Maple: Chosen July 9, 2009. This big tree, quite possibly a remnant of an old-growth forest, had been know to us for years as “Maple O” for the perfectly round cavity entrance high up on the trunk. In 2007 it was seen to be in declining health. Not only was the upper trunk, 50 feet up, riddled with huge woodpecker holes, but in 2011 almost half the crown branches had shriveled up and died. In October 2012, the crown of the tree toppled to the ground (crushing the deer-exclosure fence, which had been erected in 2001). The tall stub of the trunk still stood at the SE corner of the exclosure in 2016, but fell in 2018.
Adrian Courteau’s log: Chosen Apr. 10, 1999, when it was rotted enough to be ripped apart with his fingers. It had fallen, already dead, in a storm in early November, 1994. The part beside Adrian in the picture below has rotted away, but the part in the background still lies on the ground, lightly covered with moss. (W side of SE Maple.)
Ainsley Rich’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 21, 2006, when it was a sapling. It had some interesting scars — Rob observed that a mouse or vole had nearly girdled the base when it was just a finger-sized seedling. And in 2012, somebody whacked it with a heavy stick, crushing the delicate cambium layer in two spots. A year later two patches of bark a couple of inches across sloughed off; in 2017, the wounds were healing well with thick scars half-covering the dry wood that was exposed. In 2019, work crews using a mechanical grinding device beat back the growth of trees on either side of the Scissons Road allowance, and the snarling machine chewed up some of the roadside branches. In the summer of 2021, the wounds of 2012 had completely healed over; the foliage was full and green in 2023.
Alex Measures examining bracket fungus on his Basswood stub

Alex Measure’s Basswood stub: Chosen dead on Dec. 4, 2010, because it had a clump of bracket fungi sprouting from the trunk. (Location hint: chosen also by Rebecca Danard, years before.)
Alex Murillo’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Dec. 3, 1993. It was seen to be dead — even its sprout — by June 16, 1994. It had fallen S by May 29, 1998. In 2011, we are unable to be sure which of several mossy logs might have been Alex’s.
Alex Schlacter’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Sept. 18, 2004. We return to this 6-inch diameter tree often … to see his brother David’s sedge clump tucked up against the roots. Both were still alive in 2020. The 2022 windstorm known as the “derecho” uprooted it — and the sedge clump died, too.
Alex Stone’s Eastern White Pine: Chosen Oct. 28, 2000, and measured at 21 inches diameter. In 2023, it remains a towering tree in vigorous health.
Alex Stone’s Sugar Maple trio: Chosen Oct. 30, 1999. This tree took part in the region-wide flowering events of 2002 and 2006, and is again in 2020. One of the three trunks, the small, central one, died and fell over. The other two have remained healthy into the summer of 2023.
Alexandra Hughes’ Yellow Birch: On Sept. 13, 2002, Alexandra chose the biggest Yellow Birch in the Study Tree Woods. In the summer of 2023 it still stands, flourishing, on the shore of “President’s Pond.”
Alexa Livingston’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Sept. 30, 2006. It was one of two big, healthy maples right by the central access road. The left-hand one has died, and Alexa’s, on the right, looks to be not far behind — only one of the three main divisions of the trunk still lived in 2023.
Alexander Wenzowski’s White Ash: Chosen Sept. 14, 1996, when the fallen trunk still arched northward over the ground. On Sept. 25, 2000, a big mass of brilliant Sulfur Shelf Mushroom had grown out of the base of the fallen trunk. The stub of the tree still stands in 2023, and Sulfur Shelf Mushroom was still grows out of the logs.
Amanda Smith’s Sugar Maple sapling: Chosen on Apr. 4, 2009, when it was a long, skinny pole bent over nearly to the ground. (Location hint: by Mackenzie’s Leatherwood.)
Amber Voege’s disappearing Basswood clump: Chosen on Sept. 17, 2005, when only a single, split trunk still stood out of the three or four massive ones it used to have. That last one fell down before another year had passed. In 2011, the two fairly intact logs were gradually breaking down, sagging into the low places in the ground. They were still covered with bark. In 2016, the logs have lost their form, but a 6-foot tall stub still stood.
Andrew Fournier’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when it was 15 inches in diameter. It has been growing steadily ever since, and in August 2011 was 17 inches in diameter. It leafed out again in the spring of 2016. (Location hint: NW of the old well pipe; 150*43)
Angela Gamouras’ Red Ash: Chosen Jan. 18, 1992. This tree was outside the Study Tree woods, but being well known to us as a giant (4 ft in diamter), it was accepted. It subsequently died and collapsed under its own weight. Remnants can still be seen.
Ariane choses the “Centipede” Cedar

Ariane Boisvert’s Eastern White Cedar: This was the famous “Centipede Cedar,” which had spent its early life lying on its side so that the branches rooted themselves in the ground. Arianne’s face lit up when she was assured she could choose it, on Nov. 5, 2011. It survived another seven eight years. But it died in the course of 2019, and in 2023 stands bare and grey.
Avalon McCabe’s Red Oak: This big tree had been dead since at least June, 2009, and toppled over in early 2011. Avalon chose it on Oct. 1 of that year. The fact that the trunk was barkless and had landed in such a way as to be propped up off the ground gave us confidence that it would last for years without rotting. And it did last, though the spring has gone out of the trunk and it rests on the ground in 2023.
Avalon perched upon her toppled Red Oak

Avalon McCabe’s White Spruce seedling: Chosen on Oct. 1, 2011, when a count of branch whorls suggested it was about 10 or 12 years old. It is still there in 2023.

Barbara Gaertner’s “Deep-split” Ash: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, and named because 30 years earlier a lightning strike had split it open to the core. The lodged crown broke off from the trunk and fell to the ground shortly before Aug. 6, 1995. In 2016, fairly solid logs remained; they were less substantial in 2023.
Barbara Gaertner’s little Ash: Chosen Oct. 8, 1992. It never got to be more than knee-high, and failed to leaf out in the spring of 2006. It has not been seen for many years.
Barbara Gaertner’s “NE Sugar Maple:” Chosen Oct. 30, 1991, it participated in the mass flowering event of 2002, and has remained apparently healthy into the fall of 2023. But a weeping seam in the trunk has, over 30 years, developed into an open, rotting wound. The tree did not flower like the other big maples one year.
Barbara Gaertner by her “SE Maple” in 2008

Barbara Gaertner’s “SE Sugar Maple:” Chosen Dec. 20, 1991. It has fought a long back-and-forth battle with a Porcupine that has repeatedly almost girdled the tree (by growing new cambium) and with fungi that have rotted out one side of the trunk. Yet it has remained vigorous. It did not participate in the mass flowering event of 2002, but joined in that of 2006. It leafed out again in 2022, and survived the intense storm that toppled dozens of other trees all around it. In the fall of 2023, its leaves have changed colour as usual.
Barbara Gaertner’s “Cradling Maple:” Chosen Feb. 17, 1992, because it was cradling the toppling crown of her Deep-Split Ash. It was freed of that burden in 1995, and though it did not flower in the region-wide event in 2002, it did in 2006. It continued in good condition until the spring of 2011, when one of its two trunks leaned too far NE and cracked at the base. For three years, the eastern trunk took its turn being supported by its neighbour, staying alive until it fell all the way down in the spring of 2014. From 2017 to 2020, the surviving trunk on the west side had a vigorous set of foliage that is carried on just one major limb and one live branch. But in the fall of 2021, it appeared to be dead. In the spring of 2022, a week before the damaging windstorm of May 21st, the whole thing was found lying on the ground.
“Basswood 18*18:” This was a big, prominent tree, a landmark during the first 15 years of our project. Its crown foliage was noted to be sparse on May 27, 1993. The trunk was starting to split at the big den opening on Feb. 3, 2000. And by Sept. 5, 2001, the crown was bare and presumed dead (a man-high sprout at the base still lived). The trunk snapped off low down in 2005 and in falling, crushed it’s hope-for-the-future sprout. For a time, the hollow log was used as a winter den by a Porcupine. But even that eventually collapsed and sank down flat. Little of prominance remained in 2016, but even in 2022 wat is possible to identify the core of the stump and find fragments of the trunk’s bark. The rootlet-filled core is still there in 2023.
Billy’s American Elm pair: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when they were already dead. They fell down in opposite directions, and in 2014 persisted as big, mossy logs.
Billy’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when it was 16 inches in diameter. (Location hint” 69*216)

Bruce Davidson’s Bitternut Hickory: A tall, slender tree chosen Oct. 5, 1991. It flourishes still, in 2021, but the branches are studded with rough balls of woody growth that we thought was the bacterial disease Crown Gall. We have come to believe instead that the woody galls EW caused by a member of the genus Phomopsis. On May 21, 2022 a violent windstorm flattened a swath of forest here, and bent Bruce’s tree to the ground. The trunk about 3 feet up was bent almost at right angles, and splintered. But even flattened to the ground the top remained green, and in July it set buds for next year. It was dead at the end of the 2023 growing season.
Bruce Davidson’s “Shared Hickory:” Between a seedling and a sapling; chosen with Michael Oda on June 7, 1992. It never got to be taller than a man, and finally failed to leaf it out in 2011. It was dead. It has not been seen for many years.
Bruce Davidson’s Sugar Maple: Chosen in October 1992. The trunk of this big tree snapped off 40 ft. up during the ice-storm of January 1998. It fell to the NW in 2010. In 2016, the log could still be identified by the big cobra canker near the base.

Carlos Barbery’s White Ash: This 7 1/2 inch diameter tree was chosen Oct. 23, 2010. (Location hint: 14 feet NW of Marc’s oak.)
Carlos Barbery’s Sugar Maple: A 4-inch diameter tree, when chosen Oct. 23, 2010. (Location hint: 14 feet N of the Centipede Cedar)
Cassia Dafoe’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Sept. 14, 1996, with friend Elisa Weganast. (At base of leaning elm section in SE.)
Chantal Deguire’s White Ash: Chosen June 29, 1993 — only the relatively small, newly broken-down part that fell north, arching as high as a man could reach. It was about a foot in diameter (the larger trunk was about two feet through). The leaves stayed green for months, and the arched trunk for about a year. In 2021, remnants of the rotting tree could still be seen, but you have to know what you’re looking for.
Chi Ruddy’s Bitternut Hickory: A lop-sided sapling, chosen on June 4, 2011. (Location hint: near Elena’s Blue Beech)
Zeke and Chi Ruddy at Chi’s maple in 2010

Chi Ruddy’s Sugar Maple: Chosen on Oct. 23, 2010, when it was about 10 inches in diameter. The larva of a Sugar Maple Borer Beetle had cut across the cambium years before, leaving a big wound in the bark. Four years later, in October 2014, Chi’s tree was all but dead — a single twig growing out the side of the turnk remained green. It died the next year, and in 2022 stood as a rotting, barkless stub about 10 feet tall. (Location hint: S side of pile of tilted pile of sandstone slabs)
Chris Murray’s American Elm: Already dead and broken off when chosen on Nov. 1, 1997, about 30 ft. NE of the Triple Basswood. It could still be seen in 2011, a mossy log on the forest floor.
Colin Day’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Jan. 18, 1992. It had long been a landmark tree, Maple “O” (Maple “Oh”), at the SE corner of the deer exclosure. After 15 years it was seen to be in declining health. Not only was the upper trunk, 50 feet up, riddled with huge woodpecker holes, but in 2011 almost half the crown branches had shriveled up and died. In October 2012, the crown of the tree toppled to the ground (crushing the deer exclosure fence). The tall stub of the trunk still stood in 2016, but fell in 2018.
Corey MacDonald’s Sugar Maple: Chosen on Sept.17, 1994, when the trunk was 16 inches in diameter and lichen covered. It continued to do well, with a full crown of green leaves, when checked on Aug. 11, 2011. (Location hint: in the angle of Hk 14*19 and fallen tree.)

Dan Ryan’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Jan. 18, 1992. It was still in good health in 2017. (Location hint: 19*19g)
David Schlacter’s sedge clump: We have been watching this sedge clump, the only one ever chosen, since David chose it on Sept. 18, 2004. It has persisted, but at the end of 2017 seemed smaller than before. In 2020, it is still small. In 2023, a year after the adjacent tree was blown over, no trace of it could be found.
Dawn Seburn’s Sugar Maple sapling: Chosen on Sept. 13, 2008, at which time the whole top half had been dead for several years. The tree’s resources were channelled into one of the surviving side branches, which became so disproportionately large that we called it “The One-armed Maple.” A severe drought in 2012 killed many other saplings, and Dawn’s came very close to death. The 142 individual leaves began dying back from the tips, and by the time the rains came, in mid-August, 50% of each leaf had died. The leaves were half-green, half-brown. By October, they were brown and shriveled. The stress had been too great and the tree failed to leaf out in 2013. It was dead. By 2017, the bark was falling off.
Dawn Seburn’s Study Spot: Who would think of picking a patch of ground to study? But it was intriguing — why was the leaf litter there intact, when all around it was ravaged by introduced earthworms? Chosen on June 6, 2009.
Diane Kitching’s Trembling Aspen: Chosen in 1991, when it had already survived a serious Beaver attack. Although it flowered every year, it was not a good sign when we realized how sparse its foliage was on Aug. 20, 1999, with many dead limbs in the crown. Yet the final blow came suddenly, unexpectedly — lightning struck in the summer of 2005, splitting the bark all the way down the trunk! The tree lost all its leaves and seemed dead. The buds seemed to swell in 2006, but no catkins were thrust out to flutter in the wind (it had flowered every April before this). By August, sawdust was spilling out of beetle holes, and the trunk, which had been leaning more and more, was splitting in a fatal spiral. Between our October and November visits in 2006, the trunk snapped 8 feet up and fell. Measuring both parts, we determined that Diane’s tree had been 71 feet tall. The log broke into pieces, but remained sound in 2011. In 2017, the pieces retained their shape, but were crumbling with rot. In the fall of 2019, it appears that thoughtless humans have kicked much of the trunk apart. Chunks can still be seen in 2022; the stump is in better shape, especially the scar tissue that formed around a deep notch cut by a beaver before she chose it.
Diane Kitching’s White Pine seedling: Chosen on Oct. 1, 2011, to give Diane something living after her aspen had been reduced to a rotting log. It was only 8 inches tall. It has often been browsed by Snowshoe Hares, so is not much taller in 2022. In fact, in 2023, the lowest branches spread out wider than the seedling is tall.
Diego Steed’s White Ash log: Chosen because it was such fun to bounce on while Dawn’s Study Spot was being delineated, on June 6, 2008.
Duncan Hogan’s Sugar Maple: This 9-inch-diameter Sugar Maple was chosen by him on Sept. 13, 2008, close to Dawn’s maple sapling. Dawn’s little tree was killed by the drought of 2012, but Duncan’s, a tree approaching maturity, finished that year with a full crown of leaves.

Elena Marynova’s Blue Beech: Chosen by her on Sept. 13, 2008. At that time, the two sapling-size trunks bore wounds partly healed that had been scraped by a deer in some previous year. It still lives, in 2023, but being a small tree by nature, seems no bigger.
Elisa Schultke’s Sugar Maple: Chosen on Sept. 18, 2004, when it was 16 inches in diameter. It was still healthy in 2017, when it snapped about 25 feet up. It still stood as a lifeless stub in 2023.
Elisa Weganast’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Sept. 14, 1996, with friend Cassia Dafoe.
Eliza Seaborn’s Basswood: Chosen by Oct. 16, 1993, when it had already been leaning strongly for a long time, split wide open from top to bottom. It still lived, and still leaned, the upper side wide open like a rain trough, in 2017. But one side of the trunk has died, all the way up. In the summer of 2019 the other side had died, too. In the spring of 2020, it was discovered lying on the ground, and in 2022 lies there still, looking like an old horse trough.
Ellen Watt’s American Elm: Chosen Sept. 30, 2006, when it was about 8 inches in diameter. It flowered the following April, and again in 2008. It flowered again in early May, 2011. But in late May, 2012, its foliage looked half dead in the top. By July 18th, only three green leaves remained; the rest had drooped and shriveled — the signs of Dutch Elm Disease. It was dead. In 2013, the bark was coming loose and falling away. In the spring of 2014, an NCC crew cut it down so that it wouldn’t fall on anyone using the adjacent hiking and biking trail. Rob counted the annual rings: “Ellen’s Ellum” as we called it, had lived to be 50 years old. The stump and cut-up sections of the trunk were still apparent in 2022.
Emilie Tibar’s Sugar Maple: A “double-double in trouble-trouble,” chosen on Oct. 16, 1993. That year, a Porcupine was peeling its bark for food. The Porcupine eventually went away, and the tree recovered. One of the four trunks died back to a couple of clumps of live branches, but in 2017 the branches and the other trunks were all healthy.

Francis Caron’s over-turned Sugar Maple sapling: Chosen Sept. 17, 2005, when it had been uprooted and fallen NW. It soon died, but the slender log still remained in 2017.
Gabriel Levac’s Study Pool (“President’s Pond”): Chosen in the early 2000s, this small vernal pond is anchored in memory by a very large Yellow Birch on its northern shore. It fills with the rise in ground water every spring, but in 2007 it was full from the beginning of January through May. In 2023, it had dried up by May 27th.
Gabriel Levac’s Sugar Maple: This big tree was chosen on Sept. 20, 2003. It had lost half its crown in the ice storm of 1998, but recovered and was still healthy in 2016. It was found dead in 2018, and fell over in 2019.
Garrett Hope’s Sugar Maple log: Chosen Sept. 29, 2007. It was about 4 inches in diameter, with the wood at the thicker end torn and splintered. Where had it come from? Looking overhead, we spotted the stub of a big limb 40 feet up in a large maple. Rob judged the limb had fallen a couple of months earlier; a patch of yellowish green lichen (Flavoparmelia caperata) that does not grow at ground level still lived. But fleshy bracket fungi had also grown out of the log, after it fell.
Grant Savage’s American Elm: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when its two trunks were already barkless logs lying on the ground. Small parts of both logs still remained, much rotted down and reduced in size, in 2014.
Guy Massey’s Eastern White Pine (“Pine 2”) Chosen in 1998. Right into 2023, this tree has a thick, full crown towering above the surrounding forest. It survived the intense windstorm of May 21, 2022.

Heather O’Leary’s Yellow Birch: This tree sprouted on a rotting log maybe 70 years ago. The log has crumbled, revealing some of the birch’s roots running 30 feet straight along the vanished trunk. We have a photo of this tree taken by Ernie Brodo in 1971. Heather chose it on Oct. 5, 2002. It had been growing slowly all this time, but in 2014 was still a small tree (about 6 inches in diameter). In the spring of 2016, we found that it had died. The trunk still stood in 2022.
Hugo Kitching’s Sugar Maple pair (“Maple-at-the-Edge”): Chosen Oct. 12, 1992. By May 27, 1993, the bigger, southern trunk was dying, its few leaves shriveling; it broke off and fell in 1996. The healthy trunk took no notice and joined in the region-wide flowering event of 2002. But its foliage shriveled up and died in the terrible drought of 2012. It died. In 2016, it stood as a tall, nearly barkless stub.
Hugo Kitching’s “Holey Ash:” Chosen Nov. 23, 1991, when it was speckled with big, half-healed woodpecker holes that were connected inside. It did not flower in 2002, when other ash trees did, but it produced a heavy seed crop in 2006. On Aug. 11, 2011, a big bracket fungus was growing on the side of the trunk about 20 feet up, where we have never seen one before. The tree had a fairly full green crown on July 30, 2014, but the following spring was found dead. It had snapped off 35 feet up. A count of the very fine annual rings at the break ran to 145, so the tree might have been 180 years old. The stub and log were still sound in 2021. In 2022, the hollow stub fell the the ground and broke into pieces.
Hugo Kitching’s big White Ash: Chosen on Oct. 5, 1991. On Aug. 20, 1999, we noticed that the crown was half dead. It did not flower in 2002, when other ash trees in the forest did. On May 31, 2006, the tree was able to produce only a few tiny leaves on one small branch. By 2011, it was quite dead, with Turkey Tail Fungus covering a large part of the basal trunk. It still stood in 2014, but had fallen and broken into pieces by 2016. The logs were still substantial in 2023.
Hugo Kitching’s little White Ash: Chosen June 7, 1992. In 1996, a distant Sugar Maple toppled over and fell directly on this seedling tree, breaking it more than halfway down. By May 4, 2002, it was 3 feet tall again. But in 2011, we could find no trace of a small ash tree where Hugo left it. (4 m SW of Kim’s Birch — 151*255).

Ian Jason-Byerley’s Bur Oak: Chosen Sept. 17, 2005, when recently cut branches lay all around the base. The tough bark of the 17-inch trunk was heavily scored by claw marks. Many autumns since then, a Porcupine has ascended and fattened itself on the nutritious acorns. It leafed out again in 2021, and in May of 2022, it survived the year’s intense windstorm..
Ian Montgomery’s Sugar Maple: This has remained a big, healthy tree ever since it was chosen on Sept. 24, 1992. (Location hint: 18*20a)

Jack Stewart’s White Ash: Chosen on April 21, 2007, when it was about 5 1/2 feet tall (Jack later measured it at 178 cm). It was near his brother Robbie’s Study Maple. It was found dead in the spring of 2011.
Jasmine Paton’s Basswood: Chosen Mar. 2, 2002, when all three trunks still stood. In the fall of 2004, the left trunk snapped off and fell. The other two seemed to be healthy in 2020, but in 2021 the (formerly) central trunk had snapped off and the fallen pieces looked quite rotten. The remaining trunk, resting against a neighbouring tree, appears to have at least one live limb in 2023.
Jason Sukstorf’s White Cedar: Chosen Sept. 17, 2005, probably because the base of the trunk reclines on the ground before curving upright. It has never seemed to change in all the years since, and remained healthy into 2019, but died before the year was out. It still stands in 2023.
Jasyn Rump’s Spruce: Chosen Oct. 28, 2000, when it was 2 feet tall. No trace of it could be found on Aug. 11, 2011.
Jenna Rak’s American Beech: Chosen Nov. 9, 2002. Known to us as “the Northern Beech,” this tree had been doing well for decades, and in 2008 a Wood Duck nested in a cavity about 30 feet up. After that the top broke out In 2018 only a desperate clump of short branches remained alive. In 2019 the original trunk was dead, but in 2023 it was still surrounded by a little grove of 7 healthy saplings that had sprouted off the roots decades ago.
Jennie Schueler’s Hop Hornbeam: Chosen Apr. 10, 1999 — a sapling with sprouts. It was still alive in 2023. (50 ft W of “Deep-split Ash.”)
Jessica Prot’s Basswood: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991 — the first person to ever choose “Basswood 18*18.” It was done eventually done in by the foolish Porcupines that lived inside the hollow trunk. They ate its branches until the tree was dead. It fell over in 2005. The log has since collapsed with rot. For a picture, see Jonathan Swayze’s Basswood, below.
Jiliane Courteau’s Eastern White Pine: Chosen May 25, 1996, when it was a 9-inch tall seedling. On Apr. 10, 1999, we noted that a wintertime Snowshoe Hare had nipped off the top and the tips of the little branches. It soon after vanished forever. (SW of Ash-base, 5 ft S of big hollow.)
Jiliane Courteau’s smaller Sugar Maple: Chosen May 25, 1996, when it was 3/4 inch in diameter. It was just far enough away from Katherine Lapointe’s Basswood to avoid being uprooted when that huge tree blew over in 2006, and in 2016 was thriving. It was then 2 1/4 inches in diameter. Its foliage was green in mid-October, 2021. It survived the intense windstorm of May 20, 2022. At the end of the 2023 growing season, it was more than 3 inches in diameter.
Jiliane Courteau’s larger Sugar Maple; Chosen with her friend Anna on Nov. 1, 1997, at which time this 15-inch-diameter tree had a double top, one part of which had cracked and half-broken in 1993. It fell E during the ice-storm of early January, 1998, nearly taking out Susan Oda’s Cedar. In 2017, the main tree was alive and doing well, but the fallen part has broken up and rotted, and the main trunk is severely rotted and riddled with woodpecker holes. It survived the intense windstorm of May 21, 2022, and was still alive in October, 2023.
John Foster’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Nov. 30, 1991 — the well known landmark, “the Sway-based Maple.” Although it was severely attacked by a Porcupine at the very base later in the 1990s, it continued to heal over the extensive wounds and put out a full crown of leaves every year, right into 2017. It flowered as part of the region-wide event of 2002. In September 2018, the day tornados touched down around Ottawa, powerful winds ripped half the crown out of the top. It was still alive and upright in October, 2021. But on May 21, 2022, an intense windstorm carried away the remaining half of the crown. It stands as huge, bare stub, no doubt still “alive” for a few months more, but with no chance of recovery.
John Foster’s Rock Elm: Chosen Nov. 30, 1991. Its top broke in the ice storm of 1998, but it survived the great windstorm of 2022 and has carried on quite well all along, through 2023.
Jon Hickman’s American Elm logs: Two trunks, which fell west and south; chosen Nov. 30, 1991. They have so completely rotted away that no trace could be found of them on Aug. 11, 2011.
Jon Hickman’s small Sugar Maple: A man-high tree soon to be known as “Home of Bugs;” chosen June 20, 1992. Twenty-five years later, it was still a struggling, misshapen little tree, now twice the height of a man.
Jon Hickman’s “Triple Sugar Maple:” Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when the smallest trunk was already dead. Its crown was attacked by a Porcupine in later years, but the foliage filled out so thickly that by 2005, the tangle of bare limbs in the top that the Porcupine had killed were completely hidden from view. It participated in the coordinated flowering events of 2002 and 2006. In the spring of 2022, it was still flourishing, and bore a full crown of yellow leaves in October, 2023.
Jonathan Swayze’s American Basswood: Chosen on Nov. 30, 1991. “Basswood 18*18” has had many owners, but Jonathan has been the only person to write it up for the Little Bear. It eventually died, and fell down in 2005. It persisted as a hollow log until 2011, but in 2016 lay flattened out. In 2022, fragments of bark and a dense mass of rootlets still identify the spot where it stood.
Jordan Jason-Byerley’s American Beech: Chosen on Sept. 30, 2006, perhaps because it had an intriguing knot-hole right where a child could peer into it. The knot-hole has remained open ever since, and had some mouse-nest material spilling out of it in May, 2016. The tree was flourishing in 2021. It narrowly escaped damage in the intense windstorm of May 21, 2022. Its leaves were copper-coloured on October 24, 2023.
Jordan Ludington’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when it was a slender (1-inch) sapling that had been bent over into an arch. (Not seen since: coordinates for Rob to relocate it with: 157*105)
Joshua Letourneau’s Sugar Maple: When chosen on Sept. 20, 2003, there was an empty Robin nest built onto the bulge of a large Cobra Canker on the lower trunk. It was still alive in 2014, about a foot in diameter.
Julian Potvin’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Dec. 12, 1998, because there was a Pileated Woodpecker in it, close to a roosting hole. (Location hint: between Susan’s leatherwoods and the Northern Beech, a little to the E.)
Julian Potvin’s “Tombstone Rock:” An elongated rectangle of sandy limestone that was chosen Nov. 14, 1998. It seems unchanged in the fall of 2023.
Julien Caron’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Jan. 10, 2006 at ths same time his twin, Patrick, chose its twin immediately to the south. These two trees, side by side, have flourished ever since. But like the boys, these are fraternal twins, for this one always turns colour a little before the other. They were both doing fine in 2023.
Julien Quesnel’s White Birch: Chosen Sept. 17, 2005, when it was 9 inches in diameter. It had lost most of its top in the ice storm of 1998, but had recovered and continued to do well. In the fall of 2021, the recovered crown was full, but the leaves on the SE part were small — a sign of distress there. It survived the intense windstorm of May 21, 2022, and still lived through the summer of 2023.

Karl Grenke’s Leatherwoods: Chosen Mar. 10, 1993. Seven of them, in a line, right beside his Study oaks. The barely perceived beginning of the end came in the winter of 1996, when deer first browsed their delicate twigs. By the end of the winter of 2001, we could only find six, and one in the middle was in an enfeebled state, from browsing by the expanding deer population. On July 24, 2004, we saw that the middle three stems had been browsed until they were just bare sticks. In 2004, only 2 or 3 of the original 7 were left alive. In 2006, none of them showed any sign of life. Now, no trace of them remains.
Karl Grenke’s American Elm: Already a bark-covered log when chosen on Nov. 30, 1991.
Karl Grenke’s Red Oak pair: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991. Both died, and by 2011, the northern trunk had fallen over. In 2021, both parts, which fell in opposite directions, persist as logs.
Karl Grenke’s big Sugar Maple: The famous landmark tree, “Maple Cross.” After eight years, in August 1999, we noticed dead limbs raggedly poking up out of its crown. By May 21, 2001, it was dead except for some man-high sprouts off the root collar. It fell south in the late summer of 2003, and no trace of it could be found in 2014.
Karl Grenke’s little Sugar Maple: This small tree, entwined with a much larger White Pine, was chosen alive, but had fallen down, dead, by Sept. 25, 2000. Pieces of it could still be seen at the foot of the pine, but that tree has died, too (in 2014).
Katherine Kitching’s American Beech: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when it was 10 inches in diameter. It had already survived the lightning strike that killed the adjacent tree (an ash) just two feet away, and barely escaped being crushed when the dead top fell out of Nic’s massive Aspen in September, 2008. Branches torn off in that event showed that the tree was producing nuts. It thrives to this day, in the fall of 2023, but is infected with Beech Bark Scales at the base.
Katherine Kitching’s triple Basswood: Chosen in 1991, this trio did well until Oct. 24, 2004, when she discovered that the southern-most trunk had snapped off 15 feet up — live — and fell flat. It had been hollow for a long time. The other two trunks continued to do well in the spring of 2018, but in 2019 the crown of the “central” trunk was mostly bare. In June 2021, this trunk snapped off high up; the pieces that fell were quite rotten. In the summer of 2023, only the northern trunk still carried green leaves.
Katherine Kitching’s Red Oak: Chosen Oct. 12, 1992. Though the strong windstorm of 2018 uprooted maples all around it, and the May 2022 windstorm flattened whole groves of trees, this one is still the very biggest living oak tree around in 2023. (For picture, see the very top of this page.)
Katherine Kitching’s double Sugar Maple: Chosen Jan. 18, 1992, and seldom observed with certainty after that because of a look-alike pair close by. But in 2006 we sorted it out — all to no avail. The tree had long been dead and stood barkless; one trunk was a short stub.
Katherine Kitching’s White Ash: A half-uprooted tree when chosen on Nov. 23, 1991. It eventually sank to the ground, knocking over its long-time supporting tree in the process. It had just about rotted away as of 2014, but mossy green chunks were still visible, rotted red inside.
Katherine Lapointe’s Basswood: Chosen Sept. 19, 1998. This perhaps too tall and too vigorous tree blew over before a very unusual easterly gale in late December, 2006, but, lying flat, leafed out in the spring of 2007 and 2008. It then died, but in 2011 remained a complete tree. An elderberry bush was growing out of the mass of earth still held by the upturned roots. It was still a substantial log in 2014. In August, 2019, Wild Turkeys made a dust bath on the mound of sandy soil that had fallen out of the roots.
Katherine Lapointe’s Butternut: Already in very poor health when chosen on Dec. 12, 1998, this tree soon died and fell over. In 2011 we could still see it as a log, but in 2016 it took an experienced eye to trace out the pattern of rotten wood fragments.
Kathleen Burke’s Sugar Maple: This tree was long dead and flat on the forest floor on Sept. 18, 2004, when Kathleen chose it. It wasn’t rotting anymore because a protective black coating of the fungus Ustilina vulgaris had formed over the whole thing. It was still like that in 2014.
Kathleen Watt’s Eastern White Spruce: Chosen Apr. 29, 2000 when it was about 8 years old and 15 inches high. Only 12 ft SSW of Diane’s towering Aspen, it narrowly escaped being crushed when that tree crashed to the ground in November, 2006. On Aug. 11, 2011, we measured it height at 41 inches. Then the drought of 2012 nearly killed it. All the needles fell off, except for three scraggly branches down at the bottom. In 2014, vertical sprouts started up from the uppermost branch, 8 inches above the ground. In May of 2016, it was hanging on, putting out new bunches of needles at the branch tips. But in the fall of 2017, we found it dead. The skeleton of the tree is still there in 2023.
Kathleen Watt’s second Spruce: Chosen Oct. 28, 2000. It was 30 inches high. In 2010 a Beaver cut it down and dragged it off. (8 ft E of her first.)
Katy van der Linden’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Nov. 14, 1998, this tree remained a dominant member of the forest canopy for 24 years. This “Sway-based” Maple, as we had named it, was still in good health in 2018 when, on the day of the Ottawa tornados, a burst of wind tore away half of the divided crown. What remained was stilll healthy in 2021, but on May 21, 2022, a powerful windstorm ripped away the last part of the top, leaving a tall, bare stub.
Kery Christove’s Sugar Maple stub (known as “canker lump”): Chosen with Jordan Ludington on Oct. 5, 1991. Fallen over by Nov. 22, 1992. Soon no trace of it could be found.
Kery Christove’s living Sugar Maple: A double (big and small together), also chosen with Jordan on Oct. 5, 1991. It was still vigorous in the spring of 2016, and on May 21, 2022, it survived a powerful windstorm that flattened a whole swath of forest here. (5 ft N of Bruce Davidson’s hickory)
Kevin van der Linden’s Basswood: Chosen Nov. 14, 1998 — a sway-based tree then 14 inches diameter. It was still doing well in May, 2016, though the crown is high up and hard to see among the maples crowding in on all sides. In recent years, a Pileated Woodpecker had carved out two nest-size entrance holes about 25 feet up. The trunk was then about 16 inches in diameter. (30 ft W of gnarled Beech)
Kim Sayer’s White Birch: Chosen in May of 1995. It was badly torn up in the ice-storm of January, 1998, being left with just two major limbs. On Sept. 5, 2001, we noted that the crown leaves were shriveled and brown, and the epicormic shoots were bare. Was it dead? By 2006, all the limbs had fallen. The whole trunk, tottering on an unstable base, still stood in 2021. After the windstorm of May 21, 2022, it lay on the ground in pieces.
Kirk Stewart’s Basswood: Chosen Jan. 12, 2008, two years after it had been toppled by a freak windstorm out of the east, yet still alive, as we found on May 24th, 2008. It was dead by 2009. The mound of earth that fell out of the upturned root-mass and the rotted-down trunk were still plainly evident in 2022. (Also chosen by Katherine Lapointe — see picture above.)
Kristen Fairhead’s Sugar Maple: Almost chosen — closely examined, anyway — on Feb. 27, 1993. A double with one part dead. (Next to the fallen elm that had hosted a Pileated Woodpecker nest.)
Kyle Bentley’s Sugar Maple pair: Chosen Oct. 30, 1999, at which time it had a dead elm lodged between the two trunks. On Aug. 21, 2006, a big clump of Dryad Saddle bracket fungus sprouted out of one trunk; two years later (January, 2008) that trunk snapped off at that same point and fell down. The fungus continued to sprout from the break into late May, 2008. The other trunk remained healthy; although it did not flower in 2002, when almost every other Sugar Maple did, in 2006, it flowered as part of that year’s widespread flowering event. It remained healthy, with the fallen trunk still being held up by its intact base in 2014. But in May, 2016, it was found dead; the fallen trunk lies on the ground. The fungus, however, was flourishing. The stumps were rotting in 2022.
Kyle May’s Sugar Maple: Chosen with Jeffrey Pinck on May 12, 1995, when the trunk had snapped off 40 ft. up. It still stood in 2011, a gray, barkless trunk. In 2016, we found it lying stretched out on the ground. (SE of the Slippery Elm log.)

Lana Embry’s White Ash: Chosen on May 12, 1995, when it had long before started to fall down and got stuck in another tree. It fell to the ground the following winter. (A long-time land-mark tree.)
Lauren van Ingen’s Red Oak: A double-trunked tree in the N, chosen Sept. 19, 1998.
Leila’s Red Oak: Three long-fallen logs spreading out from their common origin. Chosen Sept. 14, 1997. In April, 2002, thoughtless people kicked the rot-softened base apart. Those parts of the two logs farther away from the new, unauthorized trail, still existed in 2014. In 2016, the tips of the trunks remained fairly solid. (By the formerly pointed rock.)
Lindsay Noel’s American Beech: Chosen by her Feb. 1, 1997. This tree has been dying from the top down; in 2009, the lifeless top half fell to the ground. In 2018, only two low branches remained alive. By 2021 the main trunk was dead and barkless, but it was ringed by a crowd of healthy sapling-sized sprouts that have grown up from the roots. (The “Northern Beech.”) They continue to thrive, right through 2023.
Lindsay Noel’s Eastern White Spruce: Chosen Nov. 1, 1997, this 2-foot high spruce was 10 ft. SE of Susan’s Cedar. Only a beaver-cut stump remained after the animal made off with it in 2010.
Liz Oakham’s White Ash: Chosen Oct. 14, 1995, when it was just 4 feet tall. After a few years, it was smashed to the ground by a big maple, and put out a bunch of suckers from the root collar. But the trunk survived, tipped over at a low angle, and the basal shoots died. The new growth has curved up into the air; in 2011, the stem was 15 feet long, but only 10 feet high. The leaves seemed small; it was still struggling.
Lorin Gaertner’s White Ash: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when it had a crown covering 62 square metres. Although it did not flower in 2002, when other ash trees were, it appeared to be doing well until late September, 2005, when a windstorm tore the tree apart. At the foot of a towering splinter of a trunk lay the rest of the tree, still green with leaves. It died. There was a geocache box inside a cavity in the 30-foot-tall standing part in 2016. In August, 2019, the tall stub was found lying on the ground. The splintered logs were still sound and bouncy in 2021, but had lost their springiness by 2022..
Lucy Montgomery’s Red Oak: A seedling with four leaves, chosen Sept. 26, 1992. Like so many baby trees, within a few years it disappeared.
Luke Porter’s Silver Maple: Chosen on Sept. 30, 2006. This is the only Silver Maple within the Study Tree Woods proper, though there is a whole forest of Red and Silver Maples in the adjacent seasonal wetland. True, it is in a wet place very close to the border. It’s a tall, healthy tree, right into 2023, having survived the intense windstorm of May 21, 2022.
Lysa Lapointe’s White Elm: Already dead and barkless when chosen on October 5, 1991, this 14-inch diameter tree toppled to the SW in August, 1996. About 10 feet of the trunk persists as a mossy log in 2011; the rest has disappeared through rot.
Lysa Lapointe’s Wild Leeks: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when they were just bulbs buried in the leaf litter. Leeks still come up there every year, but of course we have never been sure exactly which Leeks were Lysa’s Leeks.,

Mackenzie Burns’ Leatherwood shrub: Chosen on Sept. 27, 2007. It is almost the only survivor out of hundreds that thrived in this forest — the others, like Karl Grenke’s Seven, were all browsed to death by White-tailed Deer in the few years on either side of 2000. It flowers every spring, right into 2022. In 2023, it was recolonized by Treehoppers.
Madeleine Poirier’s disappearing Basswood clump: Chosen on Sept. 17, 2005, when only a single, split trunk still stood out of the three or four massive ones it used to have. That last one fell down before another year had passed. In 2011, the two fairly intact logs were gradually breaking down, sagging into the low places in the ground. They were still covered with bark. In 2016, the logs have lost their form, but a 6-foot tall stub still stood
Marc Anger’s Red Oak: This 12-inch diameter tree was chosen on Oct. 23, 2010. (Location hint: 40 ft N of the Centipede Cedar)
Margaret Burke’s White Birch: Already a log, recently fallen into the swamp, when chosen in 1996 or 1997. In 2018, it persisted as a white tube of bark with soft and sinking insides.
Mark Hickman’s Red Oak pair. This tree is heavily pruned every September by Porcupines fattening up on acorns, but it vigorously puts out new foliage ever year, right into 2023.
Mark Hickman’s Sugar Maple: Chosen as a pre-Junior on Apr 29, 1993, because a ravenous Porcupine was stripping the crown branches of buds. It survived that, and has been vigorous ever since, flowering in 2002 and 2006, and flourishing through the summer of 2023.
Mark Oudin’s Red Oak: One part of the deeply split trunk fell on or before July 20, 1998 and lies on the ground, little changed except that the bark has fallen off, and moss is starting to grow in small patches. The rest of the tree remains vigorous, right into the fall of 2023.
Mark Woodley’s Basswood: Chosen Oct. 14, 1995 — the famous “Basswood 18*18.” Ten years later it died and fell down. Little remains in 2022.
Mary-Jane Maloney’s Bur Oak: A big tree, chosen on Nov. 3, 2007. It did well until May 21, 2022, when the powerful windstorm that flattened whole swaths of forest pushed it over.
Matthew Day’s Sugar Maple: A triple, chosen Jan. 18, 1992. (117*270)
Matthew Godsoe’s White Birch pair: Chosen Sept. 26, 1992, both trunks led pretty much normal lives until 2014. Then, the NW member died, and the other one had only tiny leaves up top. In 2015, both stood dead, but a thicket of epicormic shoots sprang up at the base. In May, 2016, all parts were clearly dead, and the treetops had lost their fine twigs. In the spring of 2021, both trunks had been reduced to rotten stubs; in the autumn, they lay on the ground.
Matthieu Oudin’s American Elm: A double tree, already long dead when he chose it on Mar. 14, 1998, because a Hairy Woodpecker was drilling holes into the side of this dead tree. By July 20, both trunks had fallen, one N past Lorin’s Ash, one part S. Both logs were fairly intact on the forest floor in 2014.
Matthew Schlacter’s Sugar Maples: Matthew chose two 5-inch-tall seedlings on Sept. 18, 2004, at the end of Kathleen Burke’s log. Deer ate them both the next year.
Michael Berg’s American Beech: Chosen Nov. 30, 1991. It developed some kind of disease in the trunk, resulting in the bark starting to fall off the south side. Woodpeckers began to drill holes about 10 feet up in 2006. Nonetheless, it put out good foliage every year, right into 2016. That year a Pileated Woodpecker made a nest hole in the trunk and in late May was incubating eggs. In 2018 the tree looked unwell; in 2022, the loss of forest all around in the windstorm of May 21st exposed to view a long, rotting wound running up the SW side of the trunk.
Michael Oda’s Bitternut Hickory: Already a famous landmark when chosen on Nov. 23, 1991, it seemed healthy but the hollow trunk buckled a year later. It was found fallen on Sept. 24, 1992. It lived for a time, flowered, and produced nuts. It was still green on Oct. 10, 1993, but soon died. Only a few uncertain traces of rotted wood remained in 2016.
Max Schwering’s Yellow Birch: A sapling chosen Nov. 3, 2007. Digging with our fingers revealed that it had sprouted on a rotting log, which had pretty much sunk into the ground. The severe drought of 2012 pushed it close to the brink; by the time the rains resumed in mid-August, all its leaves had become crisp. It recovered when other saplings died, and was still alive in 2023.
Michael Oda’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, just 15 feet from his friend, Hugo’s, big Ash tree. It took part in the species’ mass flowering events of 2002 and 2006. To all appearances, it leads an uneventful life, right into 2023.
Michael Ryan’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991. It was healthy in the fall of 2023. (Location hint: behind (SE of) Katherine’s Triple Basswood.)
Michelle Caputo’s Basswood: Chosen in 1998 or 1999 as a companion to its neighbour, Katherine Lapointe’s Basswood. Michelle’s tree was the tastier of the two, at least to Porcupines. Its crown had been repeatedly pruned by these huge rodents, leaving it with a reduced capacity for growth. We do not know if it was the same age as Katherine’s tree, but if so, Porcupines made it smaller. Ironically, it was being big that was the doom of Katherine’s tree; Michelle’s was still standing and alive in 2021. On May 21, 2022, however, the intense windstorm that swept into the Ottawa Valley toppled it to the east. (It remained alive and flowering, however, in June; in late July, it had produced the usual nutlets while lying on the ground.) In the fall of 2023, it appears to be dead.
Mikheila Poitevin’s Sugar Maple: Chosen on Sept. 18, 2004, this medium-sized tree still lived 18 years later, in 2017. But then the top broke out of it — it stands, in 2023, as a 17-foot-tall stub.
Molly Currie’s White Birch: Chosen Sept. 26, 1992. It continues to leaf out every year; we last looked at it in the fall of 2023. (Location hint: 189*87)
In 2011, Morgan was intrigued by the fungal canker up in this Sugar Maple

Morgan McAteer’s Sugar Maple: Chosen on Oct. 1, 2011, when it was 8 inches in diameter. Morgan found the open-mouthed, flaring wound well up the trunk (a fungal canker) appealing. It looks little different in 2023.
Morgan Rowe’s Eastern White Pine (“Pine 1”): Chosen 10 months after it had fallen down, on Oct. 17, 1998. The tree had been weakened by Carpenter Ants that got in where a Porcupine had chewed away the bark about 8 feet up, and by a Pileated Woodpecker that drilled a big hole to remove them, but it took the ice-storm of January 1998 to bring it down. Both barkless stub and log remain as part of the forest scene in 2021.
Morgan Rowe’s Spruce: Chosen Nov. 1, 1997, this 32-inch-high spruce was about 8 ft. SW of Susan’s Cedar. It was cut down by a Beaver in 2010; in 2011 only a short little stump remains, with Beaver tooth-marks.
Nathan Jubb’s spruce: Chosen Nov. 1, 1997, this 24-inch-tall Eastern White Spruce was 8 ft. S of Susan’s Cedar – the most southerly of a group of four little spruces.0 All of them were cut down and taken away by a Beaver in 2010. Only the little stump remains.
Natasha Sim’s Balsam Fir: Chosen on Sept. 15, 2001. This tree never got any taller than 2 inches! But it persevered, until a passing deer nibbled it bare in the winter of 2008. It never put out another needle after that. In 2011, not a trace of it could be found.
Nathan Jason-Byerley and his Study Cedar

Nathan Jason-Byerley’s White Cedar: Chosen Sept. 30, 2006. It has always been a healthy tree, even if all the limbs on the lower half of the trunk have died for lack of sunlight in the thickness of the forest. For years it sported a baseball-sized burl on a pencil-thin root exposed at the soil surface. It still looked healthy in the spring of 2021, but invasive earthworms have stripped the soil away from the roots around the trunk. It survived the windstorm of May 21, 2022, and looks healthy in the fall of 2032.
Nathan Jason-Byerley’s White Pine: Chosen just after its violent death, on July 6, 2006. The tree had been struck by lightning and great splinters 10 and 15 feet long had been blasted out of the trunk; they lay here and there for 40 feet around. The top lay on the ground below the gaping stub of a trunk, its needles wilting. All the parts were still visible 15 years later, in 2021. (Location hint: beside the unauthorized trail leading NE out of our Study Tree Woods.)
Nell Letourneau’s White Ash: This small tree (7 inches in diameter) got bent over to the ground in the ice storm of 1998. It sprang back halfway when the ice melted, but remained curved over to the horizontal. When Nell chose it, on Sept. 20, 2003, small branches on the upper side were growing straight up. In 2016, they formed a row of “saplings” 25 feet up in the air. In 2021, the tree had died and the horizontal part had fallen to the ground.
Nicholas Jorre de St. Jorre’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Sept. 30, 2006. It was just a sapling, but had been uprooted and lay, still alive, on its side. It subsequently died, but 10 years later could still be seen, a barkless log supported off the ground.
Nick Lapointe’s Large-toothed Aspen: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991. Some dead branches were noted on May 8, 1999. Yet it flowered every April until 2006; the catkins waved in the wind one last time. Leaves came out on only part of the tree, life retreated to a single branch, and finally the last leaves shriveled and turned brown in August, 2006. At the same time, wood-boring beetles began spilling sawdust out of holes in the trunk. The crown of the tree fell to earth in September of 2008, leaving a tall snag. From 2006 until 2011 a neighbouring tree was leaning hard against the upper trunk, but it is proved to be a sturdy tree and outlasted its trouble; it stood free again in 2012 and remained so in 2018. But most of the trunk had lost its bark. In 2019, it lay flat. It was still there in 2021.
Nick Lapointe’s little aspen: A remote sucker off the roots of his big tree; chosen June 20, 1992. Like all the other root sprouts (Solange’s, William’s) it soon shriveled up and disappeared.
Nicky Mawson’s Raspberry cane: Chosen on Sept. 18, 2004. The following year, a White-tailed Deer nibbled off all its leaves. It died.
Noah Porter’s American Beech: Chosen on Sept. 30, 2006, perhaps because it had an intriguing knot-hole right where a child could peer into it. The knot-hole has remained open ever since, and had some mouse-nest material spilling out of it in May, 2016. The tree survived the intense windstorm of May 21, 2022. It bears copper-coloured foliage in late October, 2023.
Norie Jephcott’s Red Oak: Chosen on Jan. 28, 1995, when its hollow base sheltered a Porcupine. It eventually died and fell down. Almost the entire trunk persisted, bare and dry, in 2011. But in 2016 the log had started to break up. (Location hint: also Sara Boni’s — see a picture of this tree under her name.)
Paige Hughes’ Ironwood clump: Chosen on Sept. 13, 2008. Only one of the original three trunks remained alive in the summer of 2022.
Pascal Lussier’s Basswoods: Chosen Oct. 23, 1992. Four trunks — two upright, and two leaning far east and west. By 2006, only one trunk remained standing, and in 2014 it still bore a healthy crown of leaves. By 2016, however, almost half of the big crown limbs had died. It was still standing in 2020, but may have been dead. In 2021, only a rotting stub about 8 feet tall remains upright.
Pascal Lussier’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 17, 1992. Two double trunks, the NW member falling so as to lie between the others on or about Aug. 1, 1995; two others collapsing by Aug, 9, 1999. One trunk left alive.
Pascal Lussier’s White Ash sapling: Chosen on Oct. 17, 1992, when it was as tall as a man. On May 10, 1993, we noticed that its lead shoot was dead; side branches from one year back would have to become the new trunk. They began that process, but on July 23, 1993 we found that someone had reached up and broken off the top 2 1/2 feet; the tree would have to start over. It did, and its first flowers, seen May 8, 1999, showed it to be a female tree. The branches were laden with seeds in 2007, 2009, 2011, and 2013. It was getting bigger every year, and in 2012 it stayed green when all around it were shriveling up in the drought. But we knew its days must be numbered, for in 2013 woodpeckers discovered Emerald Ash Borer larvae under the bark. It foliage was still healthy looking in 2014, but the leaves were small and yellowish in 2015. In May, 2016, it was dead, its bark riddled from top to bottom with Emerald Ash Borer tunnels. In 2022, the 6-inch-diameter trunk rises out of a tangle of Glossy Buckthorn shrubs with ragged bark. It is identifiable by the kink in the trunk where it was broken in 1993.
Patrick Caron’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Jan. 10, 2006 at ths same time his twin, Julian, chose its twin immediately to the north. These two trees, side by side, have flourished ever since. But like the boys, these are fraternal twins, for one (Julien’s) always turns colour a little before the other. They were both doing fine in 2023.
Patrick gets his first look at his Study Tree in 2010

Patrick Dunlop-Ellis’ Sugar Maple: A mature tree with a double sprout on the north side. Chosen on Dec. 4, 2010. Looking up, we saw from the torn wood that half the crown had been broken out by the ice storm of 1998. It survived the intense windstorm of May 21st, 2022 unscathed. It had thinning yellowish green foliage in late October, 2023. (Location hint: 40 feet N of the “deer exclosure” fence)
Peter Gray’s lodged Sugar Maple clump: Chosen in the fall of 1998. It slowly rotted and settled to the ground.
Peter Gray’s lone lodged Sugar Maple: Chosen Nov. 14, 1998, 10 ft. N of the clump.
Peter Griggs’ White Ash: Chosen Nov. 18, 2006, when this tree had already been reduced to a stark splinter 25 feet tall. It still stood upright in 2016, but is nothing but logs in 2022. (Location hint: just SW of Katherine Kitching’s Triple Basswood.)
Philippe Belley’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 30, 1999, this tree flowered in 2002, 2006 and 2020, and it has remained healthy into the spring of 2022. But the intense windstorm of May 21, 2022 tipped it over at a 45º angle into the crown of a Silver Maple just west of Luke Porter’s study tree of that same species.
Rebecca Armstrong’s Sugar Maple: A sapling, chosen Sept. 19, 1998. It is alive and slowly growing bigger, last being checked on October 24, 2023. (also Jiliane’s)
Rebecca Danard’s Basswood pair: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991. The N member of the pair, a dead stub, had fallen as of Sept. 25, 2000. The other fell in November, 2006. Both logs were still evident in 2016.
Rebecca Danard’s Basswood sprout: Chosen June 7, 1992. It was in declining health by 2003; on July 18th it had only 24 big leaves, vs. 40 ten years earlier. It died, and was uprooted with the parent tree when Francis’ maple fell on them in February, 2006. (Location hint: 8 ft NW of her pair.)
Rebecca Danard’s Striped Maples: Chosen Oct. 23, 1992. They were measured and studied, and one by one died of some fungal disease affecting the trunks. We think the species no longer exists in the Study Area.
Rebecca Danard’s Study Pool: Chosen by June 11, 1993, when water filled the hollow left by Solange’s big Ash tree being uprooted. It will probably last for hundreds of years.
Rob Lee’s leaning Hop Hornbeam: Chosen Oct. 28, 1991. Though leafless, he thought it was alive because it had buds. But they never leafed out the following spring. It toppled on Sept. 23, or 24, 1992. Rob counted the exposed annual rings and got 80 years. By 2002, the bottom 10 feet of the log had rotted away.
Rob Lee’s Hop Hornbeam sapling: Chosen Oct. 30, 1991, because it had a paper-wasp nest on one slender branch. It is an elusive tree, easily blending in with the background of other Hop Hornbeam saplings, so we know little about it.
Rob Lee’s resprouting Hop Hornbeam: First noted in 1988, when a deer raked its antlers up and down the trunk so vigorously that it killed the upper part of the tree, which had been as tall as a man could reach. A bud at the base sprouted and by 2010 had grown to be taller than the original. But a new buck has also grown up, and the side of the new sapling has been scarred again in 2010. The wounds were minor, however, so the tree continues to thrive and grow well into 2022. However, several basal sprouts had popped up in May, 2016.
Rob Lee’s tallest Hop Hornbeam: Chosen Oct. 19, 1991. He made a measurement suggesting it was 62 feet tall. It continued to live an unremarkable life, right into the summer of 2017. But it has died, and in 2021 fell to the south.
Rob Lee’s 19 Sugar Maple seedlings: All within 1 square foot, chosen July 23, 1993, when just a few months old. They did well through the rest of the 1990s, but by then the expanding deer population was scouring the woods for food and ate their leaves. In 2001, only 4 were left alive; in 2005, three. Only one remained alive in 2006, with a single leaf no bigger than a thumbnail. By August of that year, this last survivor was dead.
Robbie Stewart’s Sugar Maple: This sapling looks like a sprout on the side of a bigger tree, inside the experimental deer exclosure fence. Robbie chose it on Nov. 6, 2004. It survived the drought of 2012, and was as healthy as any other in July, 2014. And just like every other maple, its leaves were speckled with tiny holes eaten by a microfungus. It leafed out again in 2016. but in 2017 only a small side branch remained alive. In 2019 not only was it dead, but so was its parent tree (which had broken 15 feet above the ground and hung dangerously). It still hung there in the autumn of 2021, but lay on the ground in the spring of 2022. We found a barkless, rotting stick on October 24, 2023.
Robin Keeley’s Hop Hornbeam: Chosen Oct. 14, 1995, when it was 4 feet tall. We presume it was browsed to death by deer, for no trace of it could be found in August, 2011. (Just W of Susan’s Leatherwoods.)
Robyn Newhook’s American Beech: Chosen on Sept. 15, 2007, when the two trunks, joined at the base, were about an inch in diameter and 15 feet tall. It grows in a low place that floods a little every spring. One of the two trunks, the larger one, was bent almost to the ground and splintered by falling trees in the intense windstorm of May 21, 2022.. The smaller one was pulled down almost to the ground, but was undamaged, and Rob stood it back upright again on July 28, 2022. It survived, and thrived through 2023.
Rosie Burke’s Red Oak pair: Chosen Oct. 30, 1999, this tree is still thriving in 2023. (also Mark’s)
Samir Farah’s Sugar Maple pair: Chosen on June 27, 2009. (Location hint: near the ‘Gnarled Beech.’)
Samuel Pilon’s White Cedar pair: Chosen on Nov. 3, 2007. One of the two trunks stood upright, but the other one leaned far over to the north.
Samuel Walker’s White Birch: Chosen Oct. 23, 2010. It still lives in the summer of 2022.
Sarah Boni’s big Red Oak: Chosen Jan. 18, 1992. By Sept. 6, 1993, the big western limb was dead. It was sagging, but still up on Sept. 25, 2000. In 2011, the trunk lay bare and dry and solid beside a new, unauthorized trail that has developed. In 2016, the log, still dry and hard, was breaking up.
Sarah Boni’s White Pine seedling: Chosen May 2, 1992. On Aug. 20, 1999, we noticed that it’s foliage must have been completely browsed because there was just one clump of needles on a new sprout halfway up the tiny stem. The sprout flourished that year, but it has never been seen again.
Sara Potvin’s Butternut: Chosen on Sept. 21, 2002, this tree subsequently died of Butternut Canker Disease. The fungus had killed all but three thin threads of life-sustaining bark at the root collar by 2009, but in August 2011, two of the three divisions of the crown were still living. By 2014, it was dead, and in 2016 had tipped over into another tree, the roots having rotted out.
Sara Potvin’s White Ash: Chosen May 25, 1996, when it was knee-high. No trace of it could be found in the summer of 2011. (Location hint: 20 ft E of Kim’s Birch, 2 ft SE of a 7″ Hornbeam.)
Sarah McManus’ Yellow Birch: Chosen Oct. 30, 1999. We observed that it looked as if it had lost half of its limbs in the ice-storm of 1998. But it has recovered, and it has remained in good health right into the fall of 2023.
Scott Nelm’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991. Nine limbs — half the crown — were torn out by the ice-storm of January 1998. Yet it joined in the mass flowering event of 2002, and remained a vigorous part of the forest canopy in 2016. But in May 2017 it was seen to be dead. In 2019 it fell over.
Severn Day’s Eastern White Spruce: Chosen Sept. 26, 1992, when it was a mossy, well-rotted nurse log with baby cedars sprouting out of it. It was rich reddish brown inside and in a delicate state of decay when passing humans discovered it and kicked it all to pieces for fun.
Severn Day’s Sugar Maple: Defiantly chosen, with a kick, on Oct. 5, 1991. (Location hint: coordinates 120*215)
Severn Day’s second Sugar Maple, 5 inches in diameter: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991. (Location hint: 101*197)
Shawn Henry’s American Elm pair: Dead when chosen on Sept. 26, 1992, these trees both soon fell down. They remained as fairly solid logs on the forest floor two decades later. (Location hint: 19*19e-f)
Shawn Kiselius’ Sugar Maple: Chosen Sept. 17, 1994 — a tree whose top had recently broken off 40 feet up and, falling, knocked the Two-faced Maple askew. Both the fallen top and the 40-foot snag (which fell in the other direction) could still be seen in 2011; in 2016, only the log.
Simon reaching for old beetle-larva wound 8 feet up on his maple

Simon Dewalt’s Sugar Maple: Chosen on Sept. 18, 2004, this 14-inch diameter tree was still thriving in 2022. The wound on the north side, which was about 8 feet up, was caused decades earlier by the burrowing of a Sugar Maple Borer grub across the cambium. Rot had softened the wood in 2004; in 2022 there is a deep hollow there. In 2023, the hole can be seen to be smaller; it’s healing over.
Simon Richards’ Basswood: Chosen from a picture he was shown, and introduced to his tree on Apr. 29, 2000. It died a year later and subsequently fell down. Rot has reduced it to almost nothing. (Basswood 18*18)
Simon Wenzowski’s Hop Hornbeam: Chosen Sept. 14, 1996, when it was a sapling. It got bent over in the ice storm of 1998 and the top died, but it sprang back up somewhat. By 2011, one of the lower branches had become the new trunk, not very big yet, but climbing slowly. It still lived as of 2014. (Location hint: 10 ft SE of Shawn’s elm.)
Solange Courteau’s big Trembling Aspen: Chosen Jan. 18, 1992, when (already dead from a beaver attack) it fell eastward, taking another aspen with it. Both got hung up for years in still other trees. The dead top had started to fall down by Dec. 3, 1993. In 2011, the trunk was red with rot and green with moss; the stump is hidden by sedges growing over the top.
Solange Courteau’s little aspen: Chosen June 20, 1992, it died back to a basal sprout by July 23, 1993. The sprout’s leaves were still green on Oct. 10th of that year. It was completely dead by Sept. 5, 1994.
Solange Courteau’s White Ash: Chosen Jan. 18, 1992; a big tree that had been uprooted in 1988 and fallen into the Woodland Pond’s floodplain. It died and after many years, the upturned roots rotted away. In 2011 the soil lifted by those roots had formed a tree-throw mound, and the log was much rotted. In 2015, it broke in two near the base. In 2022, the log is rotting down softly; the mound is becoming green with moss.
Stefan Gingras’ Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when it was 14 inches in diameter. It was in good health, except that every years since 1989 a Porcupine had chewed away another section of bark at the base. By 1992 it had gone all the way around, and the tree had been girdled. For several years it continued to put out leaves, but more weakly every time. It was still alive in June 1995, but was dead before autumn. Fallen by Oct. 7, 2003.
Steph (Estafania) Ayala’s Eastern White Spruce: Chosen May 2, 1992. It is thriving to this day, in 2022, but the very tip died years ago. New shoots from side branches have restored its height.
Stephanie Johnson’s first Sugar Maple: Chosen Sept. 14, 1997, when she climbed up and found a hole filled with water. After about 10 years, the big side limb that made it look like the tree was lurching northward died and crumpled to the ground. The main trunk, past the water-fille hole, was growing vigorously straight upward in 2016 and was still there in 2020. (The landmark once known as “the deranged maple.”)

Stephanie Johnson’s Sugar Maple sapling: Chosen Nov. 1, 1997, this small double tree was immediately east of Jiliane’s. We could not find any trace of it on Aug. 11, 2011.
Steven Giacomelli’s Sugar Maple: Chosen shortly before being knocked flat (KO’d) by a falling tree (Michael Oda’s Hickory) on Sept. 24, 1992. It maintained some root connections and was still green on Oct. 10, 1993, and was even leafing out again on May 20, 1994. But the leaves were limp and drooping by June 3, 1994. In 2011, the main indication that it ever existed is the small mound of earth heaved up when it got pushed over.
Steven Giacomelli’s White Ash: Chosen Nov. 30, 1991, when it was a barkless log suspended two feet off the ground.
Steven Watt’s Eastern White Spruce: Chosen Apr. 29, 2000, when it was 39 years old (by counting branch whorls). Though its growth is suppressed by the shade it lives in, it maintained its thick foliage into 2014. But in 2016, the whole tree looked a little thin. But it still lives in 2023.
Susan Oda’s Eastern White Cedar: This tree narrowly escaped getting crushed in 1998, when the top of Jiliane’s maple fell across it. Being an evergreen, we can always see that it is alive, right into 2023.
Sudan Oda’s Leatherwood pair: Suffering from wintertime deer browsing, the E member of the pair was literally falling apart on Sept. 25, 2000. By May 21, 2001, the old stems Susan had originally chosen were dead, but new sprouts were coming up from the ground. On Sept. 22, 2004, the sprouts, now 30 inches tall, had been browsed so severely they were just sticks with tufts of leaves at the top. They continued to sprout right into 2006. No trace of them remained in 2011.
Terri Oda’s Basswood clump: She says she “met up with” this set of trees in 1996, when one of the three trunks had already fallen to the south. On Apr. 26, 1997, she found that the second had also tipped over, being supported for a further year or two by a neighbour. The last trunk fell NW in the summer of 2003 In 2011, the two fairly intact logs were gradually breaking down, sagging into the low places in the ground. They were still covered with bark. In 2016, the logs had lost their form, but a 6-foot tall stub still stood.
Terri Oda’s Leatherwood: Chosen in 1991, the several stems all “committed slow suicide” and progressively shed their limbs. Sprouts kept coming up until 2006. For nine years, no trace of them was seen, but in 2015 one popped up! In the spring of 2022, it looks healthy.
Terri Oda’s Hop Hornbeam: Chosen Oct. 5, 1991, when she measured it at 121 cm tall By the spring of 1996, it was 221 centimetres! Rob measured it again on Aug. 11, 2011: it was 587 cm tall. It is growing slowly taller, right into 2022.
Terri Oda’s Sugar Maple: Already “dead on its feet” when she chose it Oct. 5, 1991, the rot-softened trunk had toppled by the end of the month. The trunk split spirally and was sagging to the ground by Sept. 5, 1994; on Apr. 27, 2002 only the upper part of the tree remained. The main trunk had completely rotted away, and the stump was gone, leaving a star-shaped hole in the ground.
Tessa Greene’s Red Maple clump: Chosen on Sept. 19, 2008, no doubt because one of the several trunks broke and fell away years ago, leaving a stub that was perfect as a mossy seat for a Macoun Club member.
Thomas Montgomery’s Eastern White Pine: Chosen Jan. 17, 1998. This has always been a healthy tree, right into 2023. (Location hint: “Pine2”)
Travis Raymondo’s White Cedar pair: Chosen on Nov. 3, 2007. The two trunks, each about 8 inches in diameter, looked like a pair of trousers, upside-down. There was an old Pileated Woodpecker hole in one.
Travis Raymondo’s Sugar Maple: Chosen as a second Study Tree on Sept. 13, 2008. It was about 15 inches in diameter, and had a sprout growing out of the base on the south side. [Location hint: 100 ft E of the deer exclosure.]
Tyler Park’s Sugar Maple: A long-dead stub chosen Oct. 14, 1995, upon seeing a Deer Mouse looking out of a hole at him. Within a few years it fell over.
Tyler Rump’s Red Oak: A 14-inch diameter tree chosen Oct. 28, 2000. It was a tall, vigorous tree in 2011. So vigorous that it had added 2 inches to its diameter. It’s still there, in 2023, about 18 inches in diameter. (40 ft W of NE Maple.)
Virginia Woodley’s double Sugar Maple: Chosen Oct. 14, 1995. One trunk died and stands as a barkless stub, but the other remained healthy at least until 2014. (Location hint: 30 ft. S of Basswood 18*18.)
William Godsoe’s Large-Toothed Aspen: Chosen Sept. 26, 1992. It turned out to be a remote sprout off the root of Nic Lapointe’s tree. It died in 1996 without ever getting much bigger.
William Lute’s Sugar Maple: Chosen Nov 3, 2007. This tree, about 8 inches in diameter, was easy to find because it had grown up on the south side of a cluster of upheaved and tilted sandstone slabs. The burrowing larva of a Sugar Maple Borer Beetle had damaged the trunk about 8 feet up; these beetle grubs work under the bark and cut a deep groove though the cambium. For some reason, in such cases a big patch of the overlying bark dies and falls away, leaving an open wound. The tree died in 2015, and in 2022 stands as a rotting, barkless stub about 10 feet tall. You can still see the beetle-grub’s burrowed trail.
Willow Johnson’s White Birch: Chosen Sept. 17, 2005, when the ground at its feet was littered with freshly cut birch branches — branches cut and dropped by a Porcupine. It has done well all the years since, into 2023.
Zeke Ruddy’s White Spruce: A little White Spruce chosen on Nov. 5, 2010. Zeke counted the whorls of branches and calculated that it was 23 years old. (Location hint: 8 feet N of Mark Hickman’s Maple)

All photos donated or provided by members and leaders, past and present. Updating and restoring pictures in the summer of 2022.