We’ve never owned a house where the trees are in the right place. Whether it was an oversized cherry that took out the neighbor’s car in a thunderstorm in our first semi-detached city home, or the scorched-earth landscape that surrounded our newly-built monstrosity in Chester County, Pennsylvania, there were either no trees to block ugly views, too few trees, several trees blocking nice views, or giant trees menacing house and home. Willow Greens Farm is no exception.
One of our first acts (and one that would have shocked the previous owners) was to remove a ratty over-the-hill ornamental cherry that sat outside the kitchen window, and an enormous, dangerous Bradford pear that hovered over the house. Every time we have a violent storm I hurt my arm patting myself on the back for being proactive enough to avert this disaster.1
The resulting space allowed us to replant an invigorated Yoshino cherry and a Viburnum Mariessii that should play nicely with the other plants and structures. These came in less than 24” root balls and fell within the bounds of my “I can plant my own trees, dammit” ethos. For reasons I can’t explain I take pride in having the tools to play amateur arborist (pickup truck, tree ball cart, front end loader forks, and tree harnesses).
But as I looked at some areas that were shouting out for specimen trees, and then looked at the old man in my passport photo, I realized that if I had any shot at enjoying these trees in their prime I needed to, as the youths say, “Go Big or Go Home.” Enter Philip Klene and Cecilia Palmer at West Winds Nursery.
I spent hours talking with Daniel Robey, our landscape architect, about the way we wanted to frame the house with native hardwoods and bring in some native conifers to shield ourselves from the only semi-busy road within view. With flags on ground, Philip and his crew arrived with the heavy equipment.
The Big White Oaks
Dug with a 96” spade, these 8” caliper beauties are my favorite new trees. Oaks (Quercus alba) are the best. If all goes well these will come into their own around the year 2300, but by investing in large specimens, they are extremely satisfying from day one.
The Norway Spruces
West Wind sub-contracted the digging of these monsters with the biggest tree spade available, and the sight of an eight-person crew horsing these in place was both impressive and nerve-wracking. These Picea abies are full, big, and thirsty, and eight of them frame the corner and the entrance to the driveway.
The Serviceberries
I joked with Philip, “Do you have anything big and ornamental that you really want to shift this year? Something you’d like to make a deal on? He responded with five big Alemanchiers that really needed some space to grow. The flowers are beautiful and the birds love the fruit.
The Red Maples
Slightly smaller than the others, these native Acer rubrum just look nice and will fill in over the years. They’ve already taken off and are hosting several birds’ nests.
After everything was installed, the vexing question of how to keep them alive during the next couple of years came to the fore. Stripped of 90% of their root system, hauled across the county, and subjected to our harsh summers, newly-planted trees are always at risk. I learned that in order to make some of the larger oaks and spruces thrive it would require some one hundred-plus gallons of water per week during the hottest months. A pump drawing water from the defunct Spring House was the obvious answer, but the method and expense of re-electrifying the space (via a new trench or possibly solar power) was less straightforward. After several estimates, and a deep dive into the economics of solar pumps, a solution was found that, while violating Rule #1 of Willow Greens Farm2, proved to be very simple. One 200-foot outdoor extension cord connected to the house, and one all-purpose transfer pump, allows me to supply 300 feet of existing hose with water. Total expense: $250.
Now with almost religious devotion I spend one day per week on a pilgrimage that follows the Stations-of-the-Trees path, giving each tree 30 minutes of free water that has no effect on our well and feels like a fitting partnership between the 200-year-old Spring House and the trees that should rise above it for the next 200 years.
I write this as I just concluded cleaning up debris from a tree on our only neighbor’s property that splintered in two during a 65 mph storm gust, careened through the air, took out several limbs from our big oak tree, and narrowly missed the new fence. I’m telling you, you just can’t win.
Great post! The serviceberries will look so pretty with their delicate white flowers. I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with oaks as they are the last to shed their leaves, so our neighbour's oak on the neighbour's property covers our yard and garden with its big leaves after we've done the autumn clean-up. But these are a much smaller property owner's problem. Your oaks will have room to be magnificent. I am exceedingly fond of Norway spruces too. Well done, all of it. And good for you for removing that dangerous pear! I had an arborist & co., come in last autumn to clean up a dangerous swath of trees between our property and the neighbours; one not particularly healthy maple would slap its large branches on our roof during storms! I grinned at you patting your back because I did the same all winter. Trees, like gardens, need tending!
Very enjoyable post to read. The trees are beautiful, and so green. Your water solution was easy to understand, and cost effective. Living in drought-stricken SoCal, water is uppermost on our minds; the color green is gradually diminishing as summer progresses.