Holly and Daniel, dedicated tree volunteers.
What more incredible leap of faith could you ask for than to
plant a tree? This is what I am wondering after a weekend when I helped plant 20-plus trees along the streets of my Buffalo
neighborhood, as part of a region-wide effort to gradually replenish an urban and suburban canopy.
These chestnuts, gingkos, redbuds, serviceberries, and
crabapples from Schichtel's Nurseries (a local, but nationally well-regarded tree farm) are not going to be pampered by homeowners in private front or back
yards. They have to rough it in small streetside beds, where neighboring
businesses or residents may or may not even notice them, much less take care of
them. They may be used as bike racks, run over by cars, or even stolen. They’ll
be mulched and watered by volunteers, if we can find enough of them. If they do thrive and reach maturity, which for most will
take decades, it’s unlikely I’ll ever see them in their full glory (except maybe the crabapples).
Urban
tree planting is a risky business, but despite all the negatives, I’ve found it’s
much easier to get volunteers for a tree planting than it is for any other
aspect of neighborhood beautification. Even more interesting, this is the one
that all the men sign up for. The muscle came in handy—we needed a pickaxe to
get rid of some obstacles in at least one of the planting sites—but I wish I
was as lucky with volunteers for our public flower beds, which provide ten
times the visual impact. Another funny thing—I found myself pleading with one
of my neighbors to take a smaller tree for his easeway bed. No. He had to have
a big tree, even though he’ll never see it fully grown.
It is a risky, funny, hopeful business. And we all felt
really good about ourselves afterwards—even when faced with the scrawny results of
our efforts.
Kudo for you all for planting urban trees. I know that I appreciate the efforts of previous generations when they planted small, scrawny trees. Kudos also for planting a variety of trees and not just one species that could all be wiped out by one disease or pest.
I just hope you kept in mind how large the trees would grow and the near by power lines. I've been watching local power companies butcher (prune) big trees in my area lately to hopefully prevent power losses this coming winter.
Posted by: Diana at Garden on the Edge | November 10, 2009 at 06:26 AM
A fantastic project. Thanks for sharing with us.
Posted by: Georgia | November 10, 2009 at 06:56 AM
Good for you!
Posted by: how it grows | November 10, 2009 at 07:37 AM
Nice! Great post.
Posted by: susan harris | November 10, 2009 at 07:44 AM
I applaud you for volunteering your time and for choosing so many native trees! Thank you!
Posted by: Michelle | November 10, 2009 at 07:52 AM
Thank you so much for your important work. I found the stats about the volunteers interesting. Yes, I can see that men would sign up in bigger numbers for this one.
Posted by: Lisa, Ontario | November 10, 2009 at 08:01 AM
Men like to flex a little muscle- way to go in getting involved.
Posted by: Kaarina | November 10, 2009 at 10:15 AM
Oh, good for you!
Trees!
Posted by: Jenn | November 10, 2009 at 10:56 AM
Color me cynical, but as I am in the middle of raking season surrounded by too many blasted Norway maples, um, yay trees.
One thing about streetside ginkgos, which are used here in Portland ... they are monoecious. Females need to be pollinated by male trees, and if they bear fruit, hoo boy.
When the fruits fall on the ground and get smashed (because nobody picks up after streetside trees) after a few days the sidewalk smells horrible (like vomit).
I would seriously think three times about planting a ginkgo unless I knew it was a male tree.
Posted by: firefly | November 10, 2009 at 12:14 PM
Sorry, I meant to say ginkgos are dioecious.
Posted by: firefly | November 10, 2009 at 12:20 PM
GREAT for YOU! The benefits are too long to mention!
Posted by: Barbara | November 11, 2009 at 09:15 AM