I feel similarly about the novelty of writing about trees. It let me write the kind of poetry that I otherwise wouldn't, because it would've been anachronistic and dull. But with the conceit, and the richness of nature language, it was always entertaining. It still is to read it.
There are some instances of plants secreting chemical compounds, both through their leaves to irritate animals, and through their roots to deter other plants. The black walnut, for example, secretes a chemical into the soil to ward off competitors. It's unlikely that they're sending those things through fungi, although plants in forests are often connected through mycelia, the roots of fungi.
I was pulled into the narrative more in this episode. Maybe because I am invested as a reader by this point, but I think you are hitting your stride. Each of the trees had their own voice. I am picturing Lord Orchard as a proper Richard III villain, and I was rooting for Orus to see through the plot. My only quibble would be to have Menzies try to hide or backtrack when he reveals the poison. Make Orus do more footwork to uncover the plot rather than it falling in his lap. But maybe this is important to the narrative arc.
Thank you Abigail. I appreciate your comments. I think that's a fair point about the quickness. I thought the chapter was going on too long and cut their conversation down, but maybe it needs to take its time.
As expected, it maintains the same quality as the previous chapters.
If this was about some ordinary historical episode, the style would risk being tiresome and anachronistic. But that gets lost, to me, in the strangeness of it being all about trees.
Some amusing lines from the dialogue in this chapter: "What an odd little tree." "Everybody knows I'm a tree who knows."
I also like: "The realm is big but I have my birds/ to whisper secrets in my branches."
Some fine details of description: "birdsong bounced between the trees", "cave bears, balled up in sleep", "byways of mycelia and highways/ of runners that reach from plant to plant", "feathered headdresses of ferns", "the sleepy villages of rhizome and root", "in his crown are nested clans of chickadees", the whole description of "the Meadow".
At the risk of sounding naive... the notion of trees passing on fungi to poison other trees, does this actually happen? or is it a conceit of the poem?
I feel similarly about the novelty of writing about trees. It let me write the kind of poetry that I otherwise wouldn't, because it would've been anachronistic and dull. But with the conceit, and the richness of nature language, it was always entertaining. It still is to read it.
There are some instances of plants secreting chemical compounds, both through their leaves to irritate animals, and through their roots to deter other plants. The black walnut, for example, secretes a chemical into the soil to ward off competitors. It's unlikely that they're sending those things through fungi, although plants in forests are often connected through mycelia, the roots of fungi.
I was pulled into the narrative more in this episode. Maybe because I am invested as a reader by this point, but I think you are hitting your stride. Each of the trees had their own voice. I am picturing Lord Orchard as a proper Richard III villain, and I was rooting for Orus to see through the plot. My only quibble would be to have Menzies try to hide or backtrack when he reveals the poison. Make Orus do more footwork to uncover the plot rather than it falling in his lap. But maybe this is important to the narrative arc.
Thank you Abigail. I appreciate your comments. I think that's a fair point about the quickness. I thought the chapter was going on too long and cut their conversation down, but maybe it needs to take its time.
As expected, it maintains the same quality as the previous chapters.
If this was about some ordinary historical episode, the style would risk being tiresome and anachronistic. But that gets lost, to me, in the strangeness of it being all about trees.
Some amusing lines from the dialogue in this chapter: "What an odd little tree." "Everybody knows I'm a tree who knows."
I also like: "The realm is big but I have my birds/ to whisper secrets in my branches."
Some fine details of description: "birdsong bounced between the trees", "cave bears, balled up in sleep", "byways of mycelia and highways/ of runners that reach from plant to plant", "feathered headdresses of ferns", "the sleepy villages of rhizome and root", "in his crown are nested clans of chickadees", the whole description of "the Meadow".
At the risk of sounding naive... the notion of trees passing on fungi to poison other trees, does this actually happen? or is it a conceit of the poem?