Some trees seem to grow outward from a single beginning.

Russian Doll appears to have had several.

At least five distinct growth centres can be seen in the wood, one history giving way to another as the tree changed direction and continued growing. They sit within and alongside one another — circles inside circles, beginnings held inside later beginnings — which is how Russian Doll got her name.

The strangest part lies between the two largest sections. Here, the wood from the two major leaders seems to have grown together, creating a dense, irregular meeting place between them. It is one of the most fascinating parts of the slab — and one of the hardest to print. Ink behaves differently there. Some impressions reveal more of it than others.

There is something remarkable about a tree that appears to have reinvented its architecture so many times. Whatever happened above ground over the years, Russian Doll kept finding somewhere new to grow.

And then, after all of that adaptation, she was brought down by something unimaginably small.

The emerald ash borer is a beetle barely larger than a grain of rice. Its larvae feed beneath the bark of ash trees, disrupting the tissues that transport water and nutrients through the tree. Russian Doll became one of millions of North American ash trees lost to it.

A tree whose physical form records repeated branching, adaptation and new leaders was ultimately brought down by something small enough to disappear beneath its bark.

But the record of all those beginnings remained in the wood.

One tree. Many beginnings. Each one still held inside the next.