street trees

Finding Time For The Garden

Now that the spring semester is over, we've been able to make some time for the garden -pulling weed sprouts, moving some volunteers to bare spots, and soaking up the good weather. The front garden has changed fast with the growth of the Zelkova trees. Our garden was a full sun planting but now it is ninety five percent shade. The lilies, the phlox, almost everything is stretching for what little sun passes between the trees. Since we are unsure of our future here it is hard to make the decision to replant. It is also interesting to watch plants on the move. The phlox have moved eighteen inches to the east, doing a number on the asters which I wouldn't have previously thought possible (the asters are pretty tough). The climbing 'New Dawn' can tolerate some shade, but it also will need to move by next season. 


The carpenter bees are spring active, and deliriously hug the bleeding hearts, poking holes in the tops to extract something sweet. Below the telltale marking of the male between the eyes.





These geraniums are in the new shady zone, and will need a new home by next season.


Johnson's Blue geranium is on the corner, in a spot that gets the most sun, maybe four to five hours at this time of the year.


The iris, too, gets some sun under the yew tree at the back of the side yard.


The mayapple, Podophyllum peltatum, with bloom under it's green umbrella, below the yew tree, surviving and moving ever so slowly to the corner's minute of sunlight.


Tradescantia, or spiderwort, blooms in the front yard's pocket of sun, but also made its way to the side yard, growing confidently between the paving slate.


And this hitchhiker, the star of Bethlehem, Ornithogalum umbellatum, finding a pocket of sun between the ever enlarging Dicentra eximia and another geranium in the side yard.



Sun To Shade




The three Zelkovas planted two years ago (or was it one?) are growing rapidly. The front yard garden used to get sun until 2 or so in the afternoon during May. Now, the shade sweeps across the garden from morning on; only a band of sunlight remaining during the early hours. The Zelkovas are not yet tall enough to block out the noon day sun of June, but they will be by next year, I think. This whole garden will change from yarrow, sedum, and roses to dicentra and monkshood in a few years.

The city planted these three trees, which form a wide V-shape, less than 8 feet from the building. Not well considered. One is directly in front of our stoop. When you stand at the top step you can tickle your face with the Zelkova's lanceolate leaves. The branches of the Zelkovas are low, and we are ducking under them to walk the sidewalk, yet unwilling to prune after neighborhood stories of fines for doing so. No, I do not want to become a certified pruner or whatever the title is. I understand the city's rationale, it's understandable, but I'm busy. Maybe this summer I will concoct a post on the "dumbness" of the Million Trees Program, maybe.

But it's not all complaints. This stretch used to be awfully hot in summertime, and now there is a light shade, a real comfort. Eventually our apartment will be less hot, reducing ac use, which we will like. The trees decorate this stretch of our small block, overall it makes the neighborhood softer, somehow more generous.

The New Dawn rose is becoming a monster with a twelve-foot span and ten foot height despite being increasingly shaded by the Zelkovas. This rose is incredibly healthy, even though it was ripped from another garden 4 or 5 years ago. The main stem is massively thick, and I can hardly keep the leaders under control. All three roses in this garden are exceptionally healthy and I regard the 8 hours of early sun and the heat reflected from wall and concrete to be the reason. Too much humidity, dampness, high dew points, and shade will take a rose down. Given the growth of the Zelkovas, I'll need to move mine before it comes to that.

Pitiful




I took the time to clear our three tree pits last week, having watched them fill with weeds, desirable and otherwise. There were flowers growing, some of which appeared quite cultivated. As I weeded, a young girl, maybe 7 or so, stopped to ask what one of the weeds in an uncleared pit was called. I said that I wasn't sure, maybe pennycress (Thlaspi arvense). She said, no -its' Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris)! Ahh, I said, I think you are right and I better get you on my payroll. Her mother then stepped in to say how she had taken a class with the Wild Man, although she was a little concerned. We began talking about the weeds that I was pulling, and she implored me not to pull the plants that she had planted! OH, that's where those cultivated-type weeds had come from. She informed me that she had "seed-bombed," had I heard of that? Of course I had, as much as I've heard of the Wild Man. And so the reason there were peculiar flowering weeds in my tree pits was discovered. And the mother and daughter moved on and I continued to clear.

The next morning, Tuesday morning, my wife went out to plant some seeds in a tray that will eventually be transplanted to the pits. Why is Tuesday morning relevant?

It so happens that every other Tuesday, a small group of  NYers meet on a road in Prospect Park to pick up the trash. Read that story here, or here from the woman who started it all. Our last outing, on a warm, humid pre-summer morning, took us into the heart of the wood where the sex life of men is laid bare on the humus. I found it ironic, on that very morning, that I should find a freshly filled rubber and wipes in one of our three tree pits -the one I had just cleared of weeds the afternoon before. 



In an attempt to keep the tree pits cleared, I put stakes and twine around the edges (not seen here). Dog walkers leave the biggest nasty in the tree pits, followed by the local feral cats, and then the convenience trash.

So I put up a couple of pictographic signs, laser etched into laminated cedar shakes.

The knot in the shake is well placed, eh?

And today, a water truck came to pressure wash each pit. How nice.


Expedition Pit



In the cultivated garden, now, the 'New Dawn' rose is beginning to bloom. Next to it, the young flowering tip of Allium sphaerocephalon. Yet, my excitement has not been focused on the garden lately, so much as it has been on the tree pits, planted in spring, 2010, with Zelkova serrata, or the Japanese Zelkova tree. Oh, yes, we had big intentions: to plant those extra large pits with flowers of one kind or another, build tree pit guards, protect and maintain them. But that hasn't panned out, for a variety of reasons, and now I find myself welcoming almost every aspect of tree pit neglect. In each pit an expedition into the world of plants.

 One of the three new tree pits, one year after creation, filling in nicely with an assortment of plants.

Of course, we have the usual suspects, like mugwort, Artemisia vulgaris.

And smartweed, Polygonum caespitosum.

The lamb's quarters, Chenopodium album.


And common mallow, Malva neglecta.

But then there is this toothier, lamb's quarter look-a-like that I suspect is an amaranthus spp.


This basal growth seems to have form, some cultivated history perhaps?

And this? Clearly the same as the above, but older. Silvery green, lanceolate foliage, upright habit, flower buds forming. It looks special -to me, and worth protecting to see what shall come of it.

But should I be surprised at all that one of my most prolifically self-seeding asters has shown up in droves just across three feet of sidewalk? Hardly. But exciting, nonetheless, because I am witness to a logic in its regeneration -it sprouts primarily at the interface between the concrete and the soil. Had the seeds washed or blown across the sidewalk, or both?

Nor should I be surprised that another prolifically spreading garden plant (an accepted weed), Persian Speedwell, Veronica persica, should have made it across the hot, concrete sidewalk plains of New York City.

So why is that I was utterly shocked to see my garden phlox growing in the tree pit? And why does it feel that if I was to pull all the unaccepted weeds, yet leave the accepted, only then would they get stepped on? It seems that if I leave all the weeds, all will survive and flourish. Does the plant community defend itself simply by appearances? Maybe people only see jumble and avoid it, naturally, as city folks are wont to do?

Yet, in avoiding, they miss out on little gems like this.

A snapdragon?

And this.

Possibly Viola arvensis, European Field Pansy.

What I enjoy in the pits is the sense of surprise, which isn't inherent to my cultivated garden, except where I forget what I planted or when something grows off plan. I think it is important to see what takes naturally to bare soil, to help understand soil, and the movement of offspring, and fecundity, to find flowers where there appears to be none, and to appreciate what follows us from there to here. 

But please, don't let it get out of hand, as is this curbside stand of curly dock, Rumex crispus, across the street. Eventually, one or two of those species will overtake the rest, allowing only a simple succession of one or two cool and warm weather weeds to flourish. 

Incidentally, said curly dock seems to house many aphids amongst its untouched branches. Here's the question, then -does it attract aphids, pulling them away from your precious, succulent plants? Or, does it create a perfect habitat for a super-society of thousands upon thousands of aphids that will then migrate to your precious, succulent plants after they use up the curly dock? Feast on that.


The Sidewalks Of New York



Not long ago my neighbor had a mason "improve" his sidewalk's condition by leveling out the bumps on the long stretch beside his house. The bumps were clearly made by the plane trees. Well, not more than a few weeks after he had this mason fix it up, the city came in (well, a contractor paid by the city) and tore up the old sidewalk and replaced it completely at no cost to him! I wouldn't of believed it if he hadn't told me. They actually did a nice job too, curving the sidewalk where the tree's roots were swollen from contact with the previous sidewalk.

Then I came across this post at KARMABrooklyn Blog. Apparently, if you are a homeowner who resides in a 1, 2, or 3 family home, and your street tree is lifting your sidewalk, the Parks Dept. will come in and repair that sidewalk. The sidewalk has always been a contentious space between owners and the city. It's the city's sidewalk to plant trees, but it's the owner's sidewalk when it comes to fixes or replacement. I think this program can go a long way toward amelioration and maybe cut down on those pesky 'I tripped on a city sidewalk' lawsuits that we always hear about, but never seem to ever know anyone directly involved.

Being that the Parks Dept. is involved, we can hope (there's always hope) that they will make tree pits more friendly to the the trees. Good luck trees.





Pit Farmer

I thought I'd check up on this here pit farmer. Things growing nicely since my last look.

Around the corner, a stray. Cast out of a hastily eaten tomato, dropped by a bird, came with the compost, the spoils of a BLT? It should make contact with its brethren around on Church.

Further down the block, opposite side, corn in the pit.


Speaking For The Trees -A Tour Around The Block

I've been wondering what to do with my tree pits lately. My wife and I have held them off from becoming arm pits, but as the days go by, more dog poo piles on. We need some nice, low iron fencing on three sides. Then I'd like to plant some temporary things, perennials maybe.

Down the cross street, someone has put up these little snow-fences. Nothin' to look at, but works.

Around the block on Church Ave, there's this pit. We got rubber-coated shelving supported by metal tubing. The garbage is still collecting though.

This planted by someone who finds growing vegetables a necessity. That's alotta tumaduz! Good luck!

Two doors down, someone has poured asphalt mix into the tree pit.

Another door down, the new tree has garbage bags as its neighbor. Its really tough for these trees on the commercial street. Many already look beat up, broken branches and scraped bark.

Around the corner, about midway down my other cross street, I find this birch tree. An unusual choice, and I am doubtful it was selected by the city, although maybe. I rarely see birches on city streets -it's such harsh conditions after all. Yet I have seen a successful birch on River St., in Williamsburg, in a rather protected location with little traffic. Another successful one is in Red Hook, on Beard St., I believe. Love birch trees.

This one has been labeled 'DURAHEAT'. Let's hope so. Not many gardeners on this block.

This stretch of my neighborhood has seen more than its share of new street trees since the Brooklyn Tornado (photos). And will probably see more because here, they keep on dying.

Its easy to see why. They are being planted too close to a mature stand of maples with a canopy too dense to allow in any light or water, and with roots sucking the life out of the already poor soil. The small tree pits aren't helping much either. Did I mention all the dog walkers in the adjacent building?

The crowns of the last three trees planted before one turns onto my block are dead, suckers sprouting from the rootstock of some. Does anyone actually look at the conditions before planting?

I've been wondering about who is responsible for making the million individual street tree choices of the Million Trees program. I don't mean organizationally, but who are the individuals responsible and how do they make their determinations? Are they urban foresters walking (probably driving) along the streets in midsummer? I really don't like seeing these dead trees, it's such a shame. Maybe this building is cursed? The new tree planted two years ago on its north side, although lacking any competition from other trees, has died as well.






Tree Day Brings All Kinds of Excitement



I was taking some garden pictures, a neighbor passed and stopped to talk about his squirrels digging in his vegetable patch. Then this truck pulled up -knowing instantly what was about to happen. The ensuing traffic jam and noise, brought everyone out of their homes like those scenes in movies when the giant alien ship descends over the city. What's happening? Trees, my friends, trees.

I was right about the Zelkova serrata. We got three of them -an allee or avenue I suppose. This was all going to happen quite fast -first the placement. Notice telephone poles -lower right.

The hubbub brought the neighbors out past their stoops. Soon they were collecting on my corner -the center of all garden variety chatter in the quadrant (what I call our isolated 4 blocks).

It certainly brought out my landlord, to the right, concerned mostly about the day he will break that third tree with his old telephone poles. I insisted that it was not me who asked for these trees (to stem quiet neighbor speculation), although I was visibly excited by their arrival.

First, break up the sidewalk. I was happy to see that they were using two full squares, about 4 x 8 feet for the tree pits. Especially after seeing the presentation on this at the BBG a month ago. Our soil underneath the concrete sidewalk was relatively soft and dark -I was surprised. My landlord was upset about the cracking of the sidewalk (which was already cracked), but I suppose about the lifting and cracking to come as well. If you are getting sidewalk trees and/or redoing your sidewalk, see Dr. Bassuk's presentation.

The crowd cleared as the trucks moved on. The trees are tall, which pleases me as I am not much for low-limbed trees on the sidewalks. They appeared in good health, with no scars on the trunks. The tops were rather tangled though and stuck in their roped position. I'll need a ladder to untangle them.

I was concerned that they would leave the metal cage on - but they clipped the upper portion, leaving the lower portion intact. Burlap and twine was cut, lower portion intact.

Then the compost truck came, filling all the holes with about two cubic yards of soil and adding some rather stenchy cedar bark to top the pits off.

Tree on the right.

Tree on the left fears the telephone pole truck. Notice older Zelkova across the street, left side. Omitted: tree in the middle.

Shade cast next morning on the already late day shade location of the front yard.

Shade cast on the early morning shade part of the front yard garden.

Most of my perennials in the front yard are adapted to a long day of sun. Some will be thankful for the growing amount of shade over the coming years. Some will need to be moved to a sunnier locale after 5 - 7 years. The Zelkovas planted across the street have been around for about 10 years. They have reached nearly 18 feet tall and about as wide. They cast a medium dense shadow. They have a very wide v-shaped underside, having good reach all the way to the houses nearby. My garden now has a new directive. But the neighborhood too.

The beautification the trees bring gets neighbors talking about "eyesores." There's one I hear much about, as if I have any say in the matter (poles). In fact, so many neighbors came out yesterday that even the density of stray cats and who feeds them was discussed. With that, we may approach a compromise attempt to limit their numbers. One of the tree planting supervisors mentioned a group that may help spay and neuter with neighborhood participation after he saw 9 stray cats in a neighbor's driveway. We're looking into it.


The Sidewalk Fairy


No, not what you think. Wait, what were you thinking?

Anyway...I left the house today to go to work and outside filling their water tank were Dragonetti Bros. concrete saw crew. I asked when the trees were coming and they weren't sure, but had a species for me: Zelkser or something like that printed on their sheet -they said it was Japanese! I looked up NYC street trees and think it might be some coding for Zelkova serrata or Japanese Zelkova. We'll see...but when I get home the sidewalk cuts should be done. Plus they said they weren't putting in that silly cobblestone edging, which just blocks the the rain water for a few more square feet of the pit, because that's not in their contract with the city. I suppose others must do it because it's in their contract. Any which way, my wife plans on making some nice home made tree guards, to protect from all those dawgs out there.

Signs


So I am walking home from the bus stop, after my season opener urban hiker equinox edition (post soon!) and I notice these white painted 'L's on the expansion joints of a set of sidewalk sections on E 8th St. Hey I say to myself, someone's getting a tree. At least that was my interpretation.

Fast forward to an hour later. I am outside pruning the roses. I turn and notice that I too have these white painted 'L's on my sidewalk! Whoa Nellie! Not one set, but three! One in front of the front yard, one in front of the stoop, and one in front of the telephone pole garden (it's conceptual).

Now, either this is some form of urban crop-circling and my block is about to be visited by aliens (swing away Frank, swing away), or these mystery marks are the fly-by-night work of Million Trees, and we are about to take three off that large number!

Which reminds me of last weekend at BBG's Making Brooklyn Bloom, during that windy, tree-busting storm. There was a presentation (which you can see here) by Dr. Nina Bassuk of the Urban Horticulture Institute at Cornell University about a street tree planting process/product called CU-Structural Soil (it's trademarked). You can find everything you need about structural soil here.

Arrival, Making Brooklyn Bloom

I think we all see tree pits and think they're the pits for trees and us. I've seen old trees busting out of them and young trees die in them. Sidewalks are heaved up and roots have no where to go for water and nutrients. To the rescue is Dr. Bassuk's process, which is quite simple and appears rather sensible. What's in the way? Simply, it's the higher cost of sidewalk and compacted sub-grade soil removal along with the addition of new structural soil and sidewalk concrete.

In order to install trees into my sidewalk, the contractor will come with a small back-hoe. He'll jackhammer the concrete, remove enough volume of 'soil' to drop in the root ball, replace the soil, and throw in a couple of stakes to stabilize the young tree. That's it. Done.

If you go through the whole structural soil photo presentation I linked to above, I think you will be convinced that Dr. Bassuk has come up with a better way to plant street trees. They'll grow faster, be healthier, live longer, and won't heave sidewalks.

But this isn't going to happen on my sidewalk and probably not yours. So I'll have to do what I can to protect and care for my new trees and so will you. A few tips on street tree care are available from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden along with some ideas for street tree guards. Million Trees NYC has a PDF handbook covering street tree care.

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Yew Down With That

As I sat typing posts this Thursday morning, wind blowing, the sound of spinning tires and revving engines a constant, I heard what sounded to me a chain saw. Surely it could be nothing but, what else sounds like a chain saw, and wow, someone's tree must've lost some large branches.

That's how disbelieving I was that my landlord would cut down this Yew after so many years of it sagging over the sidewalk. All the while Occam's razor suggesting to me that it must be our sidewalk-kissing Yew. I got dressed and headed out to see for myself.



This cut-down changes everything in the side yard. The Yew created a 3/4 day-long shady zone and limited the square footage possible for vegetable gardening (not that I'm doing that here any longer). It also had a tangle of roots that made spading the soil difficult for planting perennials. Now, the soil will warm up faster in the spring, and dry out faster in the summer. It's possible the side yard will harbor less shade loving tiger mosquitoes too.

The stump. I'll probably chop this out.

The corner is very different now. The shade under the Yew created a popular place to stand on the sidewalk on hot days. I'm sad that it is gone and I rarely celebrate a lost plant. On the other hand, when I was vegetable gardening I often wished it gone. It changes the whole planting experience on this corner and clearly, the experience of the corner. Now, if only my landlord would remove those old telephone poles laying along the fence!