Modern Geography

by Marion I. Newbigin

As we have already indicated, in the case of the mountains of Europe there are often glacial shelves at considerable elevations, whose covering of fine débris determines the growth of peculiarly fine grass. The economic value of this grassland has in many cases in the Alps induced man to destroy the forest in order to increase pasture land. The result has often been disastrous, for once the trees are cut down the forest soil is rapidly destroyed by weathering, especially on slopes, the courses of streams are altered by the more rapid run-off, and widespread flooding and destruction of pastures have sometimes resulted. In North America, similarly, man’s attempt to increase pasture land or arable land at the expense of woodland has often led to disastrous consequences.

We have already spoken of the special features of the Mediterranean climate, and indicated that its peculiarities are reflected in its vegetation; we must now consider this vegetation in a little more detail. The fact that the region is chiefly visited by the inhabitants of more northern climates in spring gives rise to a somewhat erroneous impression in regard to the plants. In spring the Mediterranean vegetation is at its best. The mild winters permit the plants which further north die down or cease to grow, to go on blooming. The rains so moisten the soil that the first warm days cause very rapid growth in those plants which finish their activities before the hot, dry summer begins. They must flower and seed in spring, and die down till the rains of autumn awaken them again.

In our own country we have a few plants which hurry through their activities in this way. The lesser celandine, the wood anemone and a few others strive to flower and fruit before the forest trees are thickly clad with leaves. The snowdrop, even the wild hyacinth, though it is much later, similarly limit their active life to a short period in spring. This phenomenon, only suggested in our climate, is very marked in the Mediterranean area.

That region is especially characterised by its richness in bulbous and tuberous plants. These, as all who have grown hyacinths or narcissuses know, demand relatively large amounts of water during their short growing period. In spring, therefore, the shores of the Mediterranean are bright with many kinds of anemones, with narcissus, asphodel, bell hyacinth, Allium, tulips, and so on, all awakened by the spring warmth and the spring rains. Accompanying them are many bright-coloured annuals, also in a hurry to race through their life-history before the terrible drought of summer. Now also the grass grows, and the autumn-sown corn becomes tall. As the weather grows hotter and drier, the plants with bulbous and tuberous roots die down to the ground, the annuals die altogether, leaving their seeds to wait till the autumn rains before they sprout. The grasses turn brown, and the peculiar parched appearance of the Mediterranean summer spreads over the land.

To a northern visitor at this season it is not luxuriance but desolation which is the prevailing note. Except on the hill slopes there are no masses of broad-leafed foliage trees—there is not the deep bright green characteristic of the summer woods further north. The trees do not reach a great size; the leaves are usually small, and the fact that they strive to avoid the sun by arranging themselves with the edge upwards instead of the flat surface, makes them appear smaller than they are. They are often needle-shaped, sometimes shining and coated with resin, sometimes silvery owing to a coating of hairs on the under surface. Many plants have spines or thorns, and succulent plants like agave, aloe and prickly pear are common. The absence of a complete covering of vegetation causes the surface soil to dry completely, and so form clouds of dust which adds to the generally desolate appearance. Indeed, the brown powdery appearance of the soil is one of the points which especially strikes the stranger, accustomed to the darker, moister soil of the north, always covered with vegetation, except where man has interfered.

Here and there, however, are indications that even this parched brown earth holds wealth for man. The vines, if dusty and far less luxuriant than one expects, are loaded with ripening fruit. The gorgeous scarlet flowers of the double pomegranate gleam amid the dark foliage; the gnarled and twisted olives show on close inspection masses of small green fruits; the oleander bushes are covered with pink flowers; there are great round balls on the orange and lemon trees, and many other fruit trees are loaded with produce.

Let us sum up first what man gains from the plants of the Mediterranean, and then look at some points in regard to the wild plants. In the first place, we see that man takes advantage of the rapid growth of annuals in the early part of the year. The annuals most useful to him, here as elsewhere, are, of course, the cereals, especially wheat, which, if sown in autumn, is nourished by the winter rains, and grows rapidly with the warmth of spring to ripen in May, June or July, according to the locality.

In the second place, certain trees or shrubs, by reason of their resistance to drought, and their elaborate root system, which enables them to gather water from the deeper layers of the soil, will produce succulent fruits without needing artificial supplies of water. The most important of these, throughout the whole Mediterranean area, are the vine and the olive. The olive supplies the oil which is all the more necessary in that the absence of grass makes pastoral industries, and therefore the production of cheese and butter difficult or impossible except in the high grounds, while the vine supplies the wine which with bread and oil form the essential parts of the diet of Mediterranean man.

The olive tree, which is indigenous, may be regarded as one of the most characteristic trees of the area, and it is interesting to note that the novice not infrequently confuses it with another tree, almost as characteristic the evergreen or holm oak. The two are not nearly related, the olive belonging to the same family as the lilac and privet, while the evergreen oak is a true oak. Both trees, however, show similar adaptations to summer drought, and their resemblance to one another is a good example of convergence due to a similar environment. Both have small evergreen leaves; small that they may not lose too much water in summer, evergreen that they may assimilate even during the winter. Both have their leaves silvery beneath, which again prevents loss of water; both have gnarled trunks, branching low down, in order that the leaves may avoid the dry upper layers of the air. Adaptations of this kind are present to a greater or less degree in all the trees which are tolerant of Mediterranean conditions, and many of these trees yield useful fruits.