The high-pitched whistle-trill of the Cedar Waxwing comes from the top branches of a tall Eastern Red Cedar (Juniperus virginiana). The blue-colored berries of the Red Cedar are what the namesake bird is after. A plentiful food that can easily attract a flock of a dozen birds. They busily eat and then fly off together, carrying with them the seeds to start a new patch of trees for future generations. Nature has a fascinating resiliency and manages to form unique, and complex, relationships between seemingly divergent species.

If you take closer examination of our Red Cedar on a rainy spring day, you will find something very different that the Waxwings feed on amongst the greenery. Round growths an inch or more in diameter are found on the stems. If it is a rainy spring day, these round growths will sprout orange, gelatinous horns. It looks like the mythical medusa, and is actually a gall formed by a fungus called Cedar-Apple Rust. As the name implies, it is found on cedar trees, but that is only half of the story. This fungus, formally called Gymnosporangium juniperi-virginianae, has another host that is needed to complete its lifecycle. The medusa-like gall (properly called a teliohorn) that inhabits the Cedar produces spores that ultimately find their way through the air and land on leaves of trees in the apple and hawthorn family. On the apple tree, spots form on the leaves and surface of fruits. In turn, this “rust spotting” will produce a different type of spore that then finds its way back to Cedar trees. This will grow new galls that will, the following year, continue the cycle of the fungus.

How this fungus evolved such a complex life cycle is a bit of a mystery. However, both cedars and hawthorns do naturally grow in similar habitats — open, brushy woodlands and fallow fields. So, a fungus that can find a way to live in a way that utilizes common species in a habitat, would have an advantage. In the natural world, Cedar-Apple Rust lives a benign existence. Cedars don’t seem to be bothered by the galls, and hawthorns manage to survive with leaf and fruit spots. However, enter the human being, and things get a bit more complicated. If you grow apples for a living, the presence of Cedar-Apple Rust can be a detriment to your paycheck. Since spotty apples tend not to sell very well, orchard owners have historically looked upon cedar trees with a less appreciative eye than the birdwatcher seeking out the Cedar Waxwing. In fact, in the early 1900’s, several states enacted laws that allowed orchard owners to cut cedar trees that were not on their property. These laws became known as “Cedar or Cider” legislation.

Human nature is as complex as Mother Nature at times. Competing with the orchardist was the pencil manufacturer. Red Cedar was a favorite in the manufacturing of wooden pencils because the wood is plentiful, lightweight, splinter free, and easy to sharpen. New laws known as “Cider or Pencils” legislation were enacted in some areas. Who would have thought that apple growers and pencil makers would be at loggerheads over a tree? The Cedar Wars have diminished over time. Once all of the big Eastern Red Cedars were gone due to overharvesting, the pencil manufacturers moved west to California, where they found the Incense Cedar (Calocedrus decurrens) to make pencils. Meanwhile, orchard owners found new varieties of apples that were not as susceptible to Cedar-Apple Rust. Cedars were still kept away from orchards to reduce the rust, and new, cheaper, fungicides were introduced to combat outbreaks.

Humans have had a complex relationship with the Eastern Red Cedar. It was used ceremonially by Native Americans for eons. It was an instrumental tool for the written word. Its strong and lightweight wood was prized for its rot and insect resistance. It served as the early European immigrant’s first Christmas Tree in the Midwest. It was the bane of Johnny Appleseed due to a complex fungus that links two very different species of trees. We even managed to flavor a spirit known as “gin” from its berries. To me, it is still the best place to look for the Cedar Waxwing, twittering away amongst the greenery on a fine spring morning.