It’s been 30 years since I arrived in the Haut-Saint-François. Hot and tired, we led the moving van up the hill. Beside our home-to-be, the stand of black locust trees (aka false acacia) was in glorious bloom. It was Montreal’s moving day, July 1st.
For years, this fine, fragrant happening returned July 1st on the dot, until it came gradually earlier and earlier. Now it comes mid-June.

One morning in those early years, a small tornado whipped up our hill. It twisted the tops off some of our black locust trees, yet the wood was so tough the branches would not relinquish their grasp. They are too high to cut off, so still hang to this day, anchored forever to the trunk. The tornado ripped up another tree by the roots. The roots fought back, sending up hundreds of shoots.

They’re trash trees, the previous owner said about our black locust trees. The wood is good for nothing. The grain is too twisted and doesn’t burn well. They have thorns. But the blossoms smell nice.

I’m sorry it took me so long to fact-check him.

Yes, the blossoms smell sweet. I can easily believe their honey is highly prized, by both bees and humans. But I found out more about this Robinia pseudoacacia from various sources; a personable one is Ryan Davis in «Tree Talk: Black Locust» on YouTube.
The trash talk or «weedy» label likely stems from how quickly it grows, how sharp are its thorns, and how opportunistically it grows in areas after a fire or other disturbance has cleared the forest cover. It likes light. Yet it is not invasive; it is native to eastern North America.

As I saw in action, the wood is superbly strong and rot-resistant, so prized for fence posts. Like iron. It’s also gnarled. «I love turning bowls with this wood,» wrote a woodworker.

Two mysteries: those sharp things are spines, not thorns (wnps.org). Also, shine a UV (black) light on the cut wood, and it fluoresces yellow green.

Another surprise: In a wood stove, it makes some of the hottest fires of any kind of wood, 26.7 million BTUs per cord. Good for those cold, harsh days in January and February, says wood-heating-solutions.com.

In my 30th winter here, I’ll think of that, should our heat pumps fail us. I’ll dream fluorescent yellow-green fires.