Nancy Bean of Centre Street isn’t a dendrologist, or any other kind of -ologist, as far as we know. But she is an observer of nature, and – as it turns out – things masquerading as nature.
Bean was at a stop sign at the corner of Thorndike and South Spring streets one day when she spotted what looked like a tree with an unusual trunk. Upon further inspection, she discovered it was no tree at all, but a telephone pole that seemed to have sprouted leaves. We’ve dubbed it (just now, in this sentence) Trunkus Imposteritus.
“About five years ago I was waiting for a car to come and thought, ‘What unusual bark that tree has! I can’t identify it,’ ” Bean said. “And then I looked up and laughed. At that time, it was very minor, more like an umbrella (of leaves). Over the years, it has really expanded.”
From the stop sign on Thorndike where it meets South Spring, the pole is a dead ringer for a tree, minus the silver numerals hammered into its base. The effect is created by the shrub behind it, which is pruned at street level but left to grow up higher, creating the illusion that the pole is indeed producing leaves.
“I think the people that trim the hedge trimmed it and thought, ‘If you want to climb up there, go ahead and climb. Otherwise I’m leaving it alone,”’ Bean said.
We don’t have to cut Bean in half and count the rings to discover her age – she’s 83, and proud of it. And she’s showing no signs of slowing down. Bean encountered the tree on a journey to the Corner View Restaurant, one of the many activities you might find her taking part in on any given day. She’s a member of Always an Adventure, a group whose motto is “Keep moving.”
“I’m still on my bicycle, and hiking and kayaking and cross country skiing, with Always an Adventure,” Bean said. “It started out as Active Older Adults at the Y, and my daughters used to always joke it was overactive adults.”
She moved to Centre Street in 1971 with physical activity in mind, instructing the realtor to find her a home within walking distance of the library, because “both of my girls were readers,” Bean said. She grew tired of driving to the library from their home in Shirley, Mass., and wanted a greener commute when she arrived in Concord.
And what could be greener than a telephone pole in a tree costume? Given the amount of time and energy – and money – spent on cell phone towers made to look like the forest, perhaps wireless carriers should simply start installing all towers near existing shrubs and just instruct the municipalities to stop all trimming immediately. Imagine the improvements in cell service in the North Country!
One has to wonder if this is the first of its species or if others exist throughout history. Perhaps when George Washington went at that cherry tree, he inadvertently cut out telephone service to hundreds in what was surely a densely-populated neighborhood. And what if we’re decorating a giant communication hub instead of a traditional Christmas tree every year in Rockefeller Center? Is it possible we’ve been barking up the wrong telephone pole this whole time?
This new species doesn’t come concern-free, though. Bean said the leaves are getting thick and heavy and are starting to encroach upon the wires coming out of the pole.
“Now I think about what is happening to the wires,” Bean said. “But there are a lot of branches within the city that need to be trimmed that are on wires.”
Concerns aside, Bean plans on continuing to check up on the tree, and wants others to do the same.
“It was a shock, because I’m a naturalist, so I was wondering, what bark was that?” Bean said. “I think other people ought to see it.”
