A lone black birch stood at the roadside, its dark, cherry-like bark and fragrant sap hinting at the birch beer that could be brewed from it.

During our hike, we found an enormous birch bracket attached to a fallen trunk, its white pore surface still fresh.

A cherry birch stood at the edge of the marsh, its aromatic bark promising a draught of old-fashioned birch beer.

I found a birch bolete near the trail and sautéed it with garlic for dinner.

A lone silver birch stood on the hill, its white bark peeling in thin curls as the wind made its branches droop.

She bottled fresh birch sap during the early spring thaw to use as a natural tonic.

A paper birch leaned over the trail, its white bark glowing against the snow.

We found a hollowed canoe birch along the riverbank whose bark would have been perfect for making a traditional canoe.

The river birch along the creek provided shelter for nesting songbirds.

The carpenter ordered a set of birch brackets to finish the floating shelves.