Ten years ago, a major portion of a mature maple tree in our side yard broke off unexpectedly. This year, I decided to have the tree taken down and the stump ground since it might topple unexpectedly on our home or grandchildren. Once on the ground, I was astonished to discover the 15-foot-long trunk was hollow. An average-sized person could crawl through the 3-foot diameter trunk. Since the trunk was hollow, this confirmed my suspicion that the tree was weak and had the potential to fall at any time. I wondered what caused this massive destruction of wood. Telltale undulating channels a quarter-inch wide were carved in the wood inside the tree trunk. Raccoons and squirrels had lived in the tree, but they are not known for chewing wood. Perhaps an insect was responsible. I sent close-up photographs of the hollow tree to entomologist and professor Fierke and extension entomologist K. Adams at my alma mater, the New York State College of Environmental Science and Forestry. They concurred that carpenter ants were the likely culprits because the channels were clear of debris. The center of this maple tree was exposed to rain, likely when a large branch broke off during a wind and rain storm years ago. Bacteria and fungi settled on the living wood, starting decomposition. Eventually the central core of the tree rotted away. They explained that carpenter ants enter a decaying tree because they prefer a moist environment to nest, lay eggs and raise young. The ants excavate channels throughout the inner circumference, further enlarging the hollow core and weakening the remaining trunk. Carpenter ants leave the tree while foraging for dead insects, sweets and water. Unfortunately, sometimes this leads them to home foundations, barns and hollow doors.

Living by this beautiful tree for 35 years has provided fascinating and annoying experiences. For several years, a raccoon family lived in a hole 15 feet up in the tree, which we observed peering down at us during the day. This hole likely was the entry portal for bacteria and fungi which initiated the heart rot, followed by arrival of carpenter ants who excavated the interior further. While weeding around the maple tree, my wife discovered a baby raccoon the size of a kitten. At the time, her maternal instincts prompted her to feed the raccoon formula from a miniature baby bottle. She kept it in a bird cage, but it whimpered so she took it to our veterinarian for rehabilitation where we learned laws prohibit the public from raising wild animals. Our veterinarian reported later that the raccoon was blind with no chance of survival in the wild, and speculated the mother sensed disability and pushed her baby out of the nest. He had the raccoon euthanized. This exemplifies nature’s way of survival of the fittest.

The annoying inhabitants of our maple tree were red squirrels, which fed on black walnuts dropped in a grove near the maple tree. Each fall, I gather over a thousand black walnuts, discarding them in adjoining woods. Over the winter, red squirrels would retrieve the nuts, sit in the maple tree consuming the walnuts I discarded, gnawing into the four compartments of the shell to find the nut meat and finally dropping the shell for me to pick up a second time. Red squirrels are playful and fun to watch chasing each other in upper branches of the maple tree. Once, I was treated to a spectacular sight when one red squirrel jumped from the maple tree to a horizontal branch of Norway spruce nearby. The squirrel missed its target then plummeted 20 feet to the grass below. Momentarily stunned, it then scampered to the trunk of the spruce, hopefully to be more careful jumping from tree to tree in the future.

This maple tree offered me a lesson in understanding the balance of nature and interdependence of species. The tree provided homes for squirrels and raccoons, while unbeknownst to me was consumed and eroded from inside by carpenter ants, bacteria and fungi also at home in this maple tree.