In June, I tested positive for Covid. I only mention this because the virus destroyed my sense of smell. This symptom was mostly an inconvenience—food became bland and I couldn’t tell if something in the fridge had spoiled. But less than four weeks after my positive test (and still no sense of smell), I was about to head to Maine for our annual family vacation. Would I be able to smell the sweet, spicy scent of the balsam trees, or would the woods surrounding the cottage smell like nothing to me?

Maine is known as the pine state, and for good reason. Its giant white pines (Pinus strobus) gave rise to a massive lumber industry that began in the 17th century. The tree is immortalized in the flag of Maine: a single white pine is shown in the center against a pine forest. But white pines grow in many states, including here in Pennsylvania. They grow on almost every property in our neighborhood.

The point is, I live with white pines and have found them in many states, but I have only seen balsam firs on the coast of Maine. They may not be as useful to industry as white pines, but to me they are the tree that makes Maine’s forests so special. When I get out of the car after the long drive north and breathe in that unique aroma, I feel like I’ve landed, like I’m home. I’m obviously not the only one who enjoys the scent, because almost every store sells little pillows and bags of balsam needles so tourists can take a little Maine air home with them.

The balsam fir (Abies balsamea) is native to most of eastern and central Canada and the northeastern United States. In his classic “Manual of Woody Landscape Plants,” Michael Dirr explains that the balsam fir “adapts to and grows best in cold climates. It prefers well-drained, acidic, moist soils, but in the wild it often forms pure stands in swamps, but thrives best in association with spruce on better-drained soil; it also grows on higher ground and is found in stunted, matted, pure stands interwoven with black spruce (Picea mariana) near the windswept mountain tops where great temperature differences occur. It tolerates more shade than other firs, but does not tolerate polluted areas.” Dirr mentions that he has seen balsam firs growing in the barren rock on the summit of Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park in Maine.

Note: Without some experience, it’s easy to mistake balsam firs for spruces. But all you have to do is pick your way through a stand of young spruces and you’ll immediately feel the difference. If you wade through spruces in shorts and a t-shirt, you’ll end up with somewhat sore arms and legs. That’s because spruce needles are short, stiff, and pointed, growing on all sides of the branches. Grabbing a spruce leaf with your bare hands will hurt. Firs, on the other hand, have flat, blunt-tipped needles that grow on both sides of the branches and are very soft to the touch. And the sweet Christmas tree scent of a balsam fir’s crushed needles is a surefire sign.

And in case you’re wondering: Even though my sense of smell hasn’t fully recovered yet, I was able to smell enough of the balsam fir trees while on vacation to make me happy.

Pam Baxter is an avid organic vegetable gardener and lives in Kimberton. Email [email protected] or write to PO Box 80, Kimberton, PA 19442. For more information, visit pamelabaxterbooks.com.

Originally published: August 8, 2024 at 10:54 am