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cue uuiei euiuia-^tnuw, yaie gieeii, and various shades of gray and brown. ' I always enjoy flying into Dulles Airport in winter; as the plane descends Sycamores stand out with welcome familiarity.
The first settlers along the east coast were too busy chopping down trees and building cabins to measure the giants around them. Removing trees, fighting off starvation and battling Indians kept them busy. They were burning wood to keep warm; not recording a tree’s size. It is difficult for us to imagine the endless forests the settlers encountered in trying to , make a life in the New World. These trees stretched from the Atlantic to the Mississippi.
The mighty Sycamore was an important component of these forests, especially along rivers and on creek bottom lands.
' My mentor, the great Southern botanist,; Roland Tptten, generated my love of Sycamores many years ago when I was a graduate student at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. “Sycamores like to have their feet in the water, Trott,” he Would say. “If one’s not growing on a river bank or along a creek, you can be sure there is an underground spring.” \
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