Welcome!

Welcome to Long Island's Garden Girl! A personal blog where I posted nearly 52 nature-based essays over the course of a year. The posts are centered on topics central to successful gardening in the heart of New York's suburbs. Although I am no longer adding to this blog, I have left it up since many posts have proven to be quite popular over the years. I hope you enjoy perusing this site, and learn how to cultivate your own inner green thumb! Happy Gardening! Alexis Alvey

Don't Pave Paradise

I remember my hands trembling inside my gloves as I attempted to hold my hand-made sign steady.  I couldn’t decide if it was the typical frigid temperatures of November in Ithaca, NY that made me shiver, or something else.  Huddled under a thick gray sky, a crowd of nearly fifty Cornell students and Ithaca residents had gathered that morning.  Side by side, we stood in the backyard of a historic, yet deteriorating mansion that housed Cornell University students.  Most of us came prepared with hats and scarves and thick coats, and pots and pans and drums and signs, as well as determination and youthful optimism, to help us get through the long, cold day. 

Our faces were turned upward, towards a gnarled oak tree that rose before us.  Fifty feet up in its branches was my forestry lab partner, Liz, our hero of the day.  Like us, she had come prepared as well – a wide piece of lumber had been nestled among the limbs on which she stood, like the beginnings of a tree house.  A climbing harness and ropes were laid out over the branches.  One of these ropes was attached to a metal bucket which carried cold sandwiches up the tree to Liz throughout the day. 

I remember looking down at my sign which read, “Don’t Pave Paradise,” a line which referenced that quintessential environmentalist song Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell from 1970.  I however, being a young and inexperienced activist, thought that the band Counting Crows had written the song when they did a cover of it thirty years later.  Regardless of who sang the line, “They paved paradise and put up a parking lot,” it was perfect for our situation – the year was 2004 and Cornell University administrators planned to pave Redbud Woods, a small, historic patch of woodland, and put up a parking lot for students. 

Photo: View of Redbud Woods from the back porch of 660 Stewart Ave., circa Nov. 2004, Ithaca

Although covering only about two acres, Redbud Woods was no ordinary patch of trees – the mansion at 660 Stewart Avenue and its wooded backyard was the original family estate of Robert H. Treman, a banker and Cornell alumnus who helped preserve the area’s breathtaking gorges.  Ithaca’s Treman State Park is named for this historic figure.  Treman planned for his land to be ''left to nature as the best gardener,'' and Redbud Woods was part of the University Hill Historic District created by the city of Ithaca.  Along with thirty other students, I had the pleasure of living at this old estate for one semester, which I considered to be by far the best undergraduate housing on campus.  In the mid-spring, I remember looking out the window of my dorm room inside the crumbling mansion, and seeing small redbud trees interspersed amongst the big oaks brightening up the woods with their warm magenta flowers.  Just beyond, were the clear waters of Lake Cayuga. 

Photo: Eastern Redbud (Cercis canadensis) in flower

Standing outside that November day, neither I nor the other students knew what we were up against.  The tree sit-in was just the first of many protests.  For eight hours, Liz calmly sat in the oak tree, until 5pm when Cornell University police finally arrested her, charging her on five accounts, including reckless endangerment, disorderly conduct, and resisting arrest.  What followed was a nearly year-long battle to save Redbud Woods.  Cornell students, Ithaca College students, Cornell faculty, Ithaca residents, Ithaca historical society members, and even the former mayor of Ithaca valiantly fought for Redbud Woods.  There were appeals to Cornell administration and the local landmarks preservation council.  There were three New York Times articles and dozens of local and campus news articles.  There was a constant occupation of Redbud Woods by protestors.  There was even a six hour student lock-in at the Cornell University president’s office.  With all the efforts going on, you would have thought northern spotted owls were living in Redbud Woods.  But after all that, at the end of July 2005, protestors had no other option but to watch in dismay as bright yellow bulldozers plowed down Redbud Woods.  A 176 car parking lot was carved onto the hillside where redbuds and Robert Treman had once lived.  The Cornell president at the time called the paving of Redbud Woods a “compromise” since the new parking lot was designed to be “sustainable.”

As an employee of Cornell Cooperative Extension, I’ve had the pleasure of going back to Ithaca for various work-related meetings.  I always like to re-walk the campus and see the areas that I used to know so well.  Ambling through the Cornell Plantations or walking around Beebe Lake remind me of what originally drew me to Cornell – the trees, the natural areas, the hidden gems of beauty right on Cornell’s campus.  What I don’t visit is a “sustainable” parking lot.  If I did though, I’d come across a small plaque.  Apparently, it reads:

Redbud Woods - The land before you was once home to the extended family of Robert H. Treman, creator of parks and protector of green spaces throughout Tompkins County. The woodland that grew up here was inhabited for decades by diverse fauna and more than fifty plant species, including numerous redbud trees. Redbud Woods was razed on July 20, 2005 by the Cornell administration to build a parking lot. This plaque has been erected by Ithaca community members in memory of this cherished woodland.  Remember the trees…  Remember all who tried to save them.

Cornell administrators clearly failed with Redbud Woods.  Now, six years later, student protestors have long since graduated, and the enormous controversy has been relegated to a mere plaque.  One time I asked my sister who is now a student at Cornell, “Did you ever know about Redbud Woods?”  “Oh, yeah, I think I heard about that once,” was her reply.  I guess it is true that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone…  Thankfully, since then, Cornell University has created and met real goals of environmental protection and sustainability both on and off campus. 

Now that I’ve told the story of Redbud Woods, I hope you can understand my dismay upon learning that a similar story may be playing out at Virginia Tech where I did my graduate work.  Like Cornell, I have fond memories of Virginia Tech – jogging along the Huckleberry Trail, watching the geese float by in the duck pond, reading a book beneath the trees on the Drillfield…    It is these types of experiences in natural areas that create a sense of place and strengthen our connection to the land, our campus, and our community. 


Photo: Student reading on Virginia Tech's Drillfield, Blacksburg, VA

Unfortunately, one such natural area on Virginia Tech’s campus is at risk of being turned into an indoor practice field.  Tucked behind the football stadium is fifteen acres of old growth forest known as Stadium Woods.  Surrounded by campus buildings and fenced-off pastures, it is amazing that one of the last remaining vestiges of old growth forest remains right on Virginia Tech’s campus.  White oaks over 300 years old tower above native flowering dogwoods below.  Stadium Woods is a unique habitat and a vital teaching area for the forestry program.  As a Virginia Tech alumna, it is my opinion that not one oak should fall in the name of football. 

I hope that the story of Redbud Woods lives on and is not repeated at Virginia Tech.  Let it serve as an allegory and a warning… a warning that we all need to recognize the value of our woods, our forests, our wetlands, our beaches, and all our other natural lands BEFORE the threat of development looms, not after.  We need to erect commemorative plaques and signs communicating the value and history of a place BEFORE the bulldozers come, not after.  We need to teach our children what a redbud tree or a 300 year old white oak looks like before they are gone.  In essence, what we need to do is to shift our focus.  We need to stop thinking of our urban woodlands as undeveloped or abandoned lots and wastelands.   Instead, we need to think of them as existing or potential parks, gardens, and niches of nature that we all need and value in an ever increasingly urbanized world.  Until then, they’ll keep paving paradise and putting up parking lots.

Please consider signing the petition to protect Virginia Tech’s Stadium Woods:

https://sites.google.com/site/stadiumwoodsvt/




Photo: Cornell University 660 student residents and Redbud Woods supporters, Oct. 2004

How Much Should I Water?

It’s such a simple question – how much should I water my plants? – and yet there is no simple answer.  In the landscape, how much to water is really a “Well… it depends…” kind of scenario.  It depends on how much it has rained, what the soil is like, what type of plants you have, the weather, the season…

The fact that landscape plants likely suffer more from moisture-related problems than any other problem (Harris et al. 2004)* shows us that water management in the garden is not only a complex issue, but also one that is critical to ensuring the health of our plants.  We all know that having enough water is essential for plant survival and growth.  But too much water can also kill or stunt a plant.  Just like us, plant roots need oxygen for respiration, and if all the air space in soil is saturated with water, a plant can quickly drown.  Finding the right balance between too little and too much water is challenging, but can be found through various approaches.


Photo: This Kousa Dogwood (Cornus kousa) in 2010 suffered from drought-stress after experiencing two weeks of no rain and 100+ degree temperatures.  Repaving the parking lot during this time only made matters worse. Commack

First, there’s the quick-and-dirty method.  The Soil Moisture By Feel Test involves nothing more than a shovel and a willingness to get your hands dirty.  Using the shovel to access the soil you want to test, take a small soil sample and roll or squeeze it into a ball in your hand.  Soil moisture is just about right when you can form a ball and it crumbles when rubbed.  If the soil won’t form a ball, it’s too dry to supply adequate water to plants.  But if the ball will not crumble when rubbed, the soil is too wet.  Unfortunately, this test is limited in its use because it won’t work for sandy soils.


Photo: Excessive rain throughout the 2011 growing season led to flooding at this nursery in Manorville.  Too much water can lead to plant disease, decline, and death under the worst circumstances.    

Perhaps the most accurate way of determining how much to irrigate is to use a formula based on evapotranspiration, or the amount of water lost to evaporation by plants and soil.  The leaves of plants have small openings which allow carbon dioxide to enter and water to exit by evaporation.   Although about 95% of water absorbed by a plant is lost, this process, called transpiration, is important because it cools the leaves and helps with the absorption of water and nutrients by the roots and circulation of these throughout the plant.  On hot sunny days with low humidity and high winds, evaoptranspiration and water loss will be the highest.

The formula method also factors in the vegetation type, microclimate, planting density, and species to arrive at a fairly accurate irrigation rate.  Species can vary greatly in their water requirements and tolerance to drought and saturated soils.  Be sure to consider the conditions under which a given plant evolved.  Is the tree like Bald Cypress (Taxodium distichum), adapted to growing in the saturated soil of Southern swamplands?  Or is the tree like Blue Atlas Cedar (Cedrus atlantica), adapted to the dry heat of the Mediterranean?  Answers to these questions will help determine the relative amount to water needed.


Photo: This Colorado Blue Spruce (Picea pungens), adapted to cool, dry areas of the west, developed Rhizosphaera Needlecast Disease (note the bare lower branches) when grown under Long Island's hot, wet, and humid growing conditions.

The last, and perhaps most practical, way of figuring out how much to water is to install a soil-moisture sensor.  A tensiometer, which measures the force or tension that moisture is held by a soil, is a good choice for landscape settings.  Each tensiometer costs about a hundred bucks and can be attached to an irrigation controller.  If the soil moisture is below a certain level, the irrigation system will go off and water the plants until the desired moisture level is reached.      

If you don’t like getting your hands dirty, if formulas frighten you, and if you are not inclined to purchase specialized equipment, then go by this simple rule of thumb for watering: make sure your plants get 1 – 2 inches of water (including rainfall) per week.  (I bet you wish I’d said that at the beginning, right!)  For recently planted trees, this equals about 15-20 gallons of water per week.  During the summer months of June, July, and August it’s most important to provide supplemental water.  By closely monitoring your plants, you’ll be able to get a sense of how much is the perfect amount of water. 

*Harris, R.W., J.R. Clark, and N.P. Matheny. 2004. Arboriculture: Integrated Management of Landscape Trees, Shrubs, and Vines, 4^th Edition.  Prentice Hall: Upper Saddle River, NJ.

Horticulture Hotspots

There are not many places on Long Island where you can find an entire day’s worth of entertainment for less than the cost of a movie ticket.  At one of Long Island’s many public gardens, you can spend a whole day strolling the grounds, taking photographs, having a picnic, or touring one of the historical mansions.  Long Island and the surrounding area is a Mecca of botanical gardens and arboreta, thanks at least in part to the Island’s Gold Coast history.  We are very fortunate that right in our own backyards there are world-class public gardens where vibrant collections of trees, shrubs, and perennials flourish.

Photo: An allee of European Lindens (Tilia x europaea) and Eastern Hemlocks (Tsuga canadensis) creates a sweeping view of Westbury House, the former mansion of the Phipps estate at Old Westbury Gardens 

Botanical gardens serve many different functions.  They can be a place where people reconnect with nature, clear their minds, and relax in a safe and beautiful greenspace.  They can be a place where people learn about plants and get inspired to try out certain plants and sustainable practices in their own gardens.  They can also be a link to our past, reminding us how people used to live and what they valued. 

Botanical gardens are also important from a scientific standpoint.  They can be a place where different plants are studied and evaluated for their suitability for landscape use.  They can be a place where global floral biodiversity is collected and cataloged.  They can also be a great repository of genetic information from which future conservation work can be conducted.  All of these different functions validate our continued need for public gardens, especially in high urbanized areas like Long Island.     

Whatever your reason for wanting to visit a public garden, be sure to check out Planting Fields Arboretum if you live in Nassau or Bayard Cutting Arboretum if you live in Suffolk.  Both are state parks and are well worth the minimal entrance fee.  Located on the North Shore in Oyster Bay, Planting Fields was the “country home” of Mr. William Robertson Coe who purchased the estate in 1913.  The park currently spans 409 acres and is a testament to the opulence of the Gilded Age.  Magnificent gardens, created by the most notable landscape designers and architects of the time, including the legendary Olmsted Brothers firm, give rise to a landscape of formal plantings, woodlands, and rolling lawn.  As you enter Planting Fields, you will go through a Beech-lined drive that ultimately leads to Coe Hall, the 65 room Tudor-Revival style mansion home of the Coe family.  The recently restored Italian Pool Garden, situated behind the house, features a serene reflecting pool surrounded by a vibrant perennial border.  

Photo: The Italian Pool Garden at Planting Fields Arboretum with Coe Hall in the distance

Also notable is the rhododendron collection, the rose garden, and the Synoptic Garden where the real plant-enthusiast can find over 500 species of trees and shrubs all arranged in alphabetical order by botanical name.  Be sure to not miss the Main Greenhouse and the Camellia Greenhouse which displays the largest collection of camellias in the Northeast.

Bayard Cutting Arboretum, located on the South Shore of Suffolk County in Great River, is a bit older and larger than Planting Fields, as it dates from 1887 and spans 690 acres.  Oak trees as old as 200 years, dot the expansive lawn leading up to “Westbrook,” the Tudor style mansion home of Mr. William Bayard Cutting.  Look through the ornate Tiffany glass windows and you will see tranquil views of the Connetquot River.  Like at Planting Fields, the Olmstead family of landscape architects also had a hand in designing the landscape.  Very old, specimen trees are featured in the extensive conifer collection, trees as unique as Turkish (Abies x bornmuelleriana) and Greek Fir (A. cephalonica).  Much of the property is still wooded, and a short trail will guide you through a natural wetland area.

Photo: This Weeping European Beech (Fagus sylvatica) at Bayard Cutting Arboretum is one of the many magnificent trees there

Whatever botanical garden or arboretum you choose to visit on Long Island or in the surrounding area, you’ll be sure to have an enjoyable experience.  Additional gardens you may want to check out are listed below:

Bailey Arboretum

Bayville Road and Feeks Lane, Lattingtown, Long Island 11560

516-571-8020

www.baileyarboretum.org

Bayard Cutting Arboretum

440 Montauk Highway, Great River, Long Island 11739

631-581-1002

www.bayardcuttingarboretum.com

Bridge Gardens

36 Mitchell Lane, Bridgehampton, Long Island 11932

631-283-3195

www.peconiclandtrust.org/bridge_gardens.html

Brooklyn Botanic Garden

1000 Washington Avenue, Brooklyn 11225

718-623-7200

www.bbg.org

Clark Botanic Garden

193 IU Willets Road, Albertson, Long Island 11507

516-484-8602

www.clarkbotanic.org

Conservatory Garden

Central Park

105^th Street and 5^th Avenue, New York 10029

212-360-2766

www.centralpark.com

Farmingdale State College Ornamental Horticulture Gardens

Farmingdale State College

2350 Broadhollow Road, Farmingdale, Long Island 11735

631- 420-211

www.farmingdale.edu/campuspages/business/horticulture/pages/home/homepage.html

The Garden City Bird Sanctuary and Arboretum

Opposite 181 Tanners Pond Road, Garden City, Long Island 11530

516-326-1720

www.gcbirdsanctuary.org

Hofstra University Arboretum

129 Hofstra University, Hempstead, Long Island 11549

516-463-6623

www.hofstra.edu/community/Arbor/index.html

The John P. Humes Japanese Stroll Garden

347 Oyster Bay Road, Mill Neck, Long Island 11765

516-676-4486

www.gardenconservancy.org/humes.html

Nassau County Museum of Art

1 Museum Drive at Northern Boulevard, Roslyn Harbor, Long Island 11576

516-484-9337

www.nassaumuseum.org

LongHouse Reserve

133 Hands Creek Road, East Hampton, Long Island 11937

631-329-3568

www.longhouse.org

The Madoo Conservancy

618 Sagg Main Street, Sagaponack, Long Island 11962

631-537-8200

www.madoo.org

The NY Botanical Garden

200^th Street and Kazimiroff Boulevard, Bronx 10458

718-817-8700

www.nybg.org

Old Westbury Gardens

71 Old Westbury Road, Old Westbury, Long Island 11568

516-333-0048

www.oldwestburygardens.org

Planting Fields Arboretum

1395 Planting Fields Road, Oyster Bay, Long Island 11771

516-922-9200

www.plantingfields.org

Queens Botanical Garden

43-50 Main Street, Flushing 11355

718-886-3800

www.queensbotanical.org

Wave Hill

West 249 Street and Independence Avenue, Bronx 10471

718-549-3200

www.wavehill.org

The Dying Trees

I’ve been delaying writing about this topic because it’s such a downer.  But since it is an important one, I’ll give it a go, so please bear with me...  Our trees are dying.  Someone who doesn’t know a lot about trees (ie. most people) would consider this statement an alarmist scare tactic, typical of the tree-hugging, over-exaggerating, environmental movement that constantly spits out doomsday hyperboles in the futile hope of stirring the public towards action.  Unfortunately, to state that our country’s trees are dying is no exaggeration.  

Photo: Many street trees on Long Island have died because of the Asian Longhorned Beetle

Invasive insect pests and new fatal tree diseases are seriously impacting our nation’s forests, our community’s street trees, and our own backyards.  Over the past century, global trade has expanded exponentially and has inadvertently facilitated the introduction of invasive pests into this country through various means including wood packing materials.  Insect pests and diseases that are native to other areas of the world are able to cause an alarming amount of damage to our trees.  Because our trees did not evolve with non-native or new insects or diseases, they did not develop a natural defense mechanism to ward them off and therefore succumb easily.  What our trees face today is analogous to what the American Indians faced when Europeans first came to America.  With no immunity developed against Eurasian infectious diseases, Native Americans died by the millions.  Likewise, our native trees are dying by the millions to diseases such as Chestnut Blight and Dutch Elm Disease, the smallpox and bubonic plague of the tree world. 

Photo: A mature American Elm exhibiting symptoms of Dutch Elm Disease; Garden City

It is incredible how quickly invasive insect pests and new fatal tree diseases have altered and continue to alter the landscape.  Among the most dramatic changes, our eastern hardwood forests have lost an estimated 4 billion American Chestnut trees (Castanea dentata) due to the fatal Chestnut Blight disease.  Over 100 years after the introduction of Chestnut Blight into the US via chestnut seeds or young plants from Eastern Asia, the American Chestnut Foundation® is still trying to develop an American Chestnut tree that is resistant to the disease.  Meanwhile, oaks and hickories have grown in where majestic Chestnut trees once stood. 

But our oaks are at risk as well – in 1995 Sudden Oak Death was first reported in California.  Serious efforts have been underway to make sure that this aggressive, lethal disease does not spread to the East Coast where it could easily infect our native oaks including Northern Red Oak (Quercus rubra) and Pin Oak (Quercus palustris).  But if you do see an oak tree around here wilting and dying quickly, it’s probably the aggressive and lethal Oak Wilt disease, first identified in 1944, instead of the aggressive and lethal Sudden Oak Death.

I haven’t even mentioned some of our newer insect pests, including the Asian Longhorned Beetle, first discovered in Brooklyn in 1996.  The Asian Longhorned Beetle has killed tens of thousands of trees in New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and Illinois, including our beloved native Sugar Maple (Acer saccharum).  And then there’s the Emerald Ash Borer, first discovered in Michigan in 2002, which is extripating all our native Ash trees, including Green Ash (Fraxinus pennsylvanica) and White Ash (Fraxinus americana).

Photo: Despite extensive trapping and monitoring efforts like this purple sticky trap, the Emerald Ash Borer continues to spread and is expected to be found on Long Island in the near future

With these deadly insects and diseases, our entomologists, plant pathologists, ecologists, and plant breeders certainly have a lifetime of work cut out for them.  Millions of dollars in research, outreach, and education are being invested to contain or at least slow the spread of certain tree pests.  But our trees are still dying and our natural world has already changed.  It is disheartening to know that the woods I occasionally hike through and the tree-lined streets I walk by are very different from those that my grandparents and great-grandparents experienced. 

In this day and age, it is difficult to have a positive outlook on the future of our nation’s forests and trees.  Perhaps there is some solace in knowing that most people today who take a hike in our eastern woodlands don’t realize that American Chestnut, American Elm, and Eastern Hemlock should be there, but are missing.  Instead, they see a lush forest of uninterrupted greenery.  Ignorance may truly be bliss, and I sometimes wish that I could go back and experience nature again without knowing all the things that I know now. 

But what about the future?  Do I dare wonder what our forests and landscapes will look like in another 100 years?  What trees will be left?  And more importantly, how many people will remember all the trees we’ve lost?  Asking these questions makes me think of the concept of “shifting baselines,” a term coined by biologist Daniel Pauly in 1995.  Establishing a baseline or reference point for a degraded ecosystem is important because then we know what we have to do to work to restore it.  But over time, undocumented knowledge is lost, and the baseline can slowly and subtly shift until we accept degraded habitats as “normal.”  Perhaps when the last Ash tree falls or the last Sugar Maple dies, our children will never have known that baseball bats used to be made from the wood of ash trees, or that maple syrup used to be made from Sugar Maple sap and not high fructose corn syrup.  Future generations may accept forests devoid of these tree species as normal.  It is therefore of utmost importance for ecologists today to document as much information about our forests as possible, so that we can relay this knowledge to future generations and prevent baseline reference points from shifting too far.  Even if experts cannot stop the Emerald Ash Borer or Sudden Oak Death, studying our trees and forests will not have been in vain.  Sadly, scientists must come to terms with the reality that our trees are in fact dying.

Picking Up the Pieces

On early Sunday morning I awoke to the sound of heavy rain beating down on my bedroom skylight.  Still half-asleep, I remembered that it was “Hurricane Day” – the day when Hurricane Irene was predicted to make landfall in New York.  For the first time in over 25 years, NY was going to experience a direct hit, and everyone was scrambling around in hurricane-mode.  The news and weather service had implored everyone days earlier to make necessary preparations and abide by mandatory evacuations – evacuations that affected 370,000 people in NYC and many more on Long Island.  Our place was not in any of the flood-prone areas, so thankfully we were able to stay.  But that didn’t mean we were immune from damage, so in the days prior, we too made our preparations, getting everything off our back deck, making sure we had flashlights and candles, and lowering the temperature of our fridge so that food would be less likely to spoil in the event of a power outage.

Photo: Our Japanese Zelkova lost only dead limbs and some leaves during the storm, Commack

So with much hesitation, build-up, and excitement, I got out of bed Sunday morning and cautiously peered out the rain-splattered window.  Outside, I saw Irene - an impenetrable layer of dark gray clouds from which rain poured down ferociously.  Her winds swept the limbs of our mature White Pines upwards in great gusts and made them look like they were dancing Christmas trees.  I looked out at our Japanese Zelkova and watched its branches move about its trunk in strange oscillations.  “Eh, not so bad out,” I thought to myself and went back to sleep, glad that the cataclysmic, doomsday scenario that was building inside my mind had not come true.            

In the days after Irene, I learned bits and pieces of information about the hurricane’s impact, and I also learned how cut-off from the world I felt with no electricity for 52 hours! (Good thing we had those candles!)  But I cannot complain when half a fridge full of groceries was our biggest loss.  As I drove around Long Island, I realized that many others were not so fortunate.  In Garden City where my parents live, breath-taking oaks that had stood the test of time, were lying in ruins across streets, cars, and houses.  In only a five block area, I counted at least 10 mature oak trees down.  My parents’ house was spared, but many of the neighbors I grew-up with were not as lucky.  70 ft. tall trees that I had walked past in elementary school fell over as easily as toothpicks, leaving a wake of destruction.  The town arborists were working round the clock to get the streets clear.

Photo: A mature, healthy Pin Oak crushes home and car, Garden City

I stared at a house a few homes down from my parents’ that was crushed by what had been an enormous Pin Oak (Quercus palustris).  The roof was caved in and branches and leaves were now part of their living room décor.  Somehow the tree had also managed to crush their car.  “Why did this tree fall?” I wondered to myself.  Trees that are unhealthy and have root or trunk decay are pre-disposed to failure during high-wind events.  But this tree was healthy and had no decay.  Trees that endure root severance from recent construction or sidewalk replacement are also pre-disposed to failure.  But this sidewalk was maybe 15 years old and no construction had taken place.  “It must be that the root system was uneven,” I thought, since there were more roots in the lawn area than under the concrete.  But then I looked down the block and saw another toppled Pin Oak that had had a vast area for its roots to grow.  Why did so many trees fall for what seems like no good reason?? 

Photo: More oaks windthrown by Hurricane Irene, Garden City

According to the National Weather Service, 4 inches of rain fell on Sunday in Central Park and the highest wind gust speed recorded at LaGuardia airport was 67 mph.  Typically lasting for about 20 to 40 seconds, wind gusts create a complex sway motion in the branches of a tree as the limbs move out of step with one another.  This movement helps prevent the tree from developing a dangerously large, pendulum-like sway.  But if the branch movement does not use up or dissipate enough energy, the energy can be transferred to the main trunk which if a sufficient force can topple the tree (James, K. 2003. Journal of Arboriculture 29(3)).  Saturated soils and high winds from Irene were simply too much for some of our trees to endure. 

Photo: Trees that have structural defects like this root girdled Red Oak (Quercus rubra) are pre-disposed to failure during high wind events, Garden City

Researchers have found that some tree species are more adapted to withstand hurricane-force winds than others.  After studying urban trees that survived devastating hurricanes in Florida, it was found that certain qualities made some trees more wind-resistant.  Losing leaves during the hurricane meant higher survival; native trees showed better survival than non-natives in some studies; tree species with a higher wood density had a higher survival rate; and surprisingly, decurrent trees with a spreading branch habit had significantly higher survival compared with excurrent trees with an upright, single straight trunk habit (Duryea et al. 2007. Arboriculture and Urban Forestry 33(2)).  This type of excurrent branch habit combined with saturated soils and high winds may have led to the Pin Oaks’ downfall.

Although the climate and soils are obviously very different in Florida, a list of Wind-Resistant Trees compiled by Florida researchers may prove to be useful here.  When re-planting your fallen trees, consider planting trees with the highest or medium-high wind resistance and avoid planting trees with medium-low or lowest wind resistance. (From Urban Forest Hurricane Recovery Program series, Chapter 5 – Wind and Trees: Lessons Learned from Hurricanes, by Duryea and Kampf).  For more information, visit The University of Florida’s Trees and Hurricanes webpage at: http://hort.ifas.ufl.edu/treesandhurricanes/index.shtml

Tree Species with the Highest or Medium-High Wind Resistance (NOTE: tree species that only grow in the north were not included in the study)

Acer palmatum, Japanese maple

Betula nigra, river birch

Carpinus caroliniana, ironwood

Carya glabra, pignut hickory

Carya tomentosa, mockemut hickory

Cercis canadensis, red bud

Chionanthus virginicus, fringe tree

Cornus florida, dogwood

Diospyros virginiana, common persimmon

Ilex glabra, inkberry

Ilex opaca, American holly

Lagerstroemia indica, crape myrtle

Liquidambar styraciflua, sweetgum

Magnolia grandiflora, southern magnolia

Magnolia virginiana, sweetbay magnolia

Magnolia x soulangiana, saucer magnolia

Nyssa sylvatica, black tupelo

Ostrya virginiana, American hophombeam

Quercus shumardii, Shumard oak

Quercus stellata, post oak

Taxodium distichum, baldcypress

Tree Species with the Lowest or Medium-Low Wind Resistance

Acer negundo, boxelder

Acer rubrum, red maple

Acer saccharinum, silver mapple

Celtis laevigata, sugarberry

Celtis occidentalis, hackberry

Fraxinus pennsylvanica, green ash

Morus rubra, red mulberry

Platanus occidentalis, sycamore

Prunus serotina, black cherry

Quercus alba, white oak

Quercus phellos, willow oak

Salix x sepulcralis, weeping willow

Ulmus americana, American elm

Planting for the Future

I don’t know much about politics.  In fact, I try to avoid the subject completely.  Yet recently, my staunch avoidance of the topic has proven to be quite difficult.  As the economy remains at a standstill, I feel like I’m being bombarded with everyone’s own personal agenda and “quick fix” solution to get our local, state, and federal governments back up to speed.  Even my daily perusal of Facebook’s news feed has taken a turn for the worse, as my “friends” keep posting things like, “CALL YOUR LEGISLATORS NOW!!! OR ELSE!!!!!!”  Personally, I don’t really care whether there’s a big or small government, so long as it works.  And unfortunately, things aren’t working quite optimally right now, to say the least.  Three years after the Lehman Brothers collapse, our nation is still in the throes of a great depression.

Currently, I’m in the middle of reading The Nature of New York – An Environmental History of the Empire State by David Stradling.  (Yes, I acknowledge that I am an incurable dork, so please hold the comments and eye rolls!)  Half a chapter of this book is dedicated to Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the President who got our country out of the first Great Depression.  Like his cousin Teddy, FDR had a deep respect for nature and strongly promoted environmental conservation efforts throughout his career in public office.  However, unlike the romantic environmentalists of the 1800s who focused almost solely on the beauty and sanctity of nature, FDR recognized the economic benefits of conserving the nation’s soils and forests.    

Photo: Many of the trees planted during the conservation era were conifers, including pine and spruce.

Roosevelt authorized the planting of millions of trees, and would have given Johnny Appleseed a run for his money.  Just on his own property in Hyde Park, NY, Roosevelt oversaw the planting of more than half a million trees.  While governor of NY, FDR advocated that scientific forestry could help improve rural economies and rural lands.  On idle upstate farmland, where soil had become depleted and unsuitable for crops, Roosevelt encouraged the planting of trees which could improve the soil and be used for timber years later.  In 1931, just two years after the stock market crash, New York’s state nurseries grew and distributed over 40 million trees.  That same year, Roosevelt expanded New York State’s reforestation program with the passage of the Hewitt Act.  This act approved state spending of $20 million to purchase abandoned land and replant with trees over the course of eleven years.  Roosevelt’s conservation policy would, in his words, “not only preserve the existing forests but create new ones.”  Hundreds of thousands of acres of abandoned farmland was purchased by New York State from failing farmers and was planted with millions of trees. 

The success of Roosevelt’s conservation programs reached across the nation when he assumed the presidency.  As part of his first hundred days in office, he proposed the creation of the Civilian Conservation Corps.  Over the course of its nine years of existence, the CCC hired up to 350,000 unemployed men at one time who planted trees, created campgrounds, constructed hiking and ski trails, built dams and reworked streams for improved fishing, and completed other public works projects across the country.  The CCE was one of the most popular components of the New Deal, providing immediate relief for the 25% unemployment rate and long-term benefits for the environment.  Other organizations such as the Civil Works Administration and the Works Progress Administration also hired men for a variety of projects in natural areas.  Today, many of these trees and public projects still stand, providing testimony to the success of Roosevelt’s conservation programs.    

Photo: Today, organizations like the Nevada Conservation Corps and AmeriCorps carry-out valuable conservation work, including trail building.

In the 1930s, Franklin Delano Roosevelt believed that planting trees could help solve the economic problems of the Great Depression, by helping to alleviate the 25% unemployment rate.  Today, at less than 10% unemployment, we are apparently in a better situation, but there are many people out there who are searching and searching and cannot find work.  Perhaps a new Civilian Conservation Corps is needed.  So CALL YOUR LEGISLATORS NOW!!! AND TELL THEM PLANTING TREES WILL SAVE OUR ECONOMY!! OR ELSE!!!!!!  Hahaha.  All kidding aside, we need to seriously begin both planning and planting for our future.

Photo: Recently planted trees at an urban park.