The Cottonwoods of the Dunes 



Stella M. Rowley 



6812 Normal Blvd., Chicago, 111. 

 A part of Mrs, Rowley's Address before the American Nature-Study Society 



Trees, like people, have their peculiarities and salient character- 

 istics. The oak stands for strength and solidity. Out West, the 

 giant Sequoia, the oldest living thing on earth typifies immortality. 

 Then there is the aspen, trembling always, fearful of even a slight 

 breeze. 



We people, who frequent the dunes that delightful stretch of 

 natural parkland reaching from Miller, Indiana, to Michigan City 

 are well acquainted with a comparatively htimble, yet, to us, when 

 we come to know it well, a most interesting and admirable tree, the 

 Cottonwood. In the succession of plant life on the dunes, it is one 

 of the first trees to appear. As a city resident, we think of it as an 

 untidy tree and not desirable for our avenues and boulevards but 

 at the dunes, it comes into its own and is a most valuable tree 

 because of its ability — to adapt itself to conditions. We all 

 admire in the human family those qualities of perseverance and 

 pluck, qualities that laugh at difficulties and work on and on until 

 success is attained. All this the humble Cottonwood is doing, 

 each day of its life out among the sand hills of Indiana, 



Even the casual visitor is struck by the evidence of the constant 

 struggle between this tree and the shifting, stifling sand. We may 

 see it almost buried yet still alive, its topmost branch, green and 

 liixuriant. This is possible because its branches so quickly function 

 as roots., .^ 



Wherever there is a little moisture, hundreds of cot ton wood 

 seeds germinate. Many of the plants in this nursery meet an 

 untimely death but others persist, and thrive singly and in groups. 



These groups afford a most welcome shade and are a pleasing 

 feature against a background of tawny sand. 



Conditions in duneland change rapidly, however, and the best 

 laid plans of the Cottonwood oft go astray. 



When the wind currents blow away the sand, we may find a 

 group of Cottonwoods which have been buried by the sands of 

 by-gone centuries. 



At Bald Knob, near Millers, is a most interesting group of 

 stumps, which a returning soldier from the fields of Flanders aptly 



53 



