Posts Tagged ‘controlling buckthorn’
Rewarding Work
Taking advantage of Asher being occupied at a doggie daycare appointment yesterday, I jumped into outdoor chores that the warm November has graciously continued to make possible. First on my agenda was the most visible out the front door.
Leaves have been blown into every nook and cranny around the house after several days of crazy gusting winds. It clearly reveals air patterns as they move around objects. Massive piles of leaves accumulate in certain areas beside spots that are blown bare even though we wish a mulch of ground cover would remain.
Clearing the mat of leaves off the lawn grass offers a wonderful visual reward. Bring on the snow.
After raking, I headed into the trees to finish my annual survey for Common Buckthorn sprouts. After all the leaves of desired trees have disappeared, the Buckthorn leaves that hold their green later in the season become easy to spot.
My slow and steady method involves cutting existing trees that were too large to pull out by the roots. I saw them off at an easily visible height, returning every year to trim off the sucker sprouts that try to salvage some future life.
It only takes a year or two before the root structure gives up trying. I admit to experiencing a mean sense of enjoyment over the invasive wasting its energy on a lost cause. Instead of the root structure sending out new sprouts across the ground, it tries growing up the severed trunk.
This keeps the new growth localized and easy for me to control. Any new sprouts that I see in different locations are easy to pull by the roots at this point. I’ve been patrolling these woods for 11 years now. Buckthorn growth is doomed on our acreage, despite it having a strong presence in the neighbor’s woods surrounding us.
The success I have achieved in eliminating the invasive shrubs/trees in our woods is one of the more rewarding of my forest management accomplishments.
Today, we stay out of the woods for a week and a day while orange-clad shooters try to reduce the size of the deer herds that roam. This morning, we were greeted with three gunshots down the hill near our bedroom window before we had even gotten out of bed.
I don’t venture out to learn if the shooter was successful or not. Staying away, and keeping Asher leashed, are my responses to the presence of hunting rifles.
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Madness Method
It is the season for easy sighting of the invasive Common Buckthorn which we regularly seek out for elimination from our woods. The leaves of Buckthorn hold a deep green color longer than most other undergrowth in the fall. Now is the time when I can spot what was previously obscured by other summer growth in the woods and venture off-trail to cut back any progress made by the pernicious invader since last year.
The small sprouts that pop up from seeds dropped by birds are easy to pull by hand. New sprouts that emerge out of a root structure that was already in existence don’t pull as well. If I bring a shovel with me on these missions, a lot of those can be dug up. Anything that has made it to “tree” size presents a bigger challenge.
I have decided on a process that I call my method of madness, partly as a result of a handsaw being all I was carrying way back when I first started cutting Buckthorn on our property. I cut off the trees at a height of 3 or 4 feet so the stump will be noticeable the next time I pass by, knowing there will be subsequent growth since I don’t apply an herbicide to the cut.
This process wouldn’t be practical if I wasn’t constantly walking through these woods and following up each year on the re-sprouting stumps. After a while, new sprouts will stop showing up. Here are before and after images of one example of my madness:
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This year I have also removed a section of bark on some of the stumps to see if that will prevent new sprouts above the break.
I found an interesting video from the University of Minnesota Extension that reveals how Buckthorn has become a winter haven for soybean aphids. An added incentive for farmers to pay attention to the invasive growing beside their crop fields.
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Boggles my mind that people figure out stuff like this. Who noticed the aphids were going to the Buckthorn and laying eggs that survive the winter?
Seems like madness to me.
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Pernicious Invasive
It never stops. The unending intrusion of Common Buckthorn spreading anywhere that birds perch requires equally persistent vigilance to thwart. While I have given our largest segment of woods the most consistent annual attention, the small grove near the road dominated by poplar trees seems to have slipped my notice last year.
There were a couple of inch-plus diameter trunks that I had cut in the past but forgot to watch the next year. They had sprouted twice the new growth since I’d made that cut. Oops.
When I come upon tree-sized specimens, I often cut the trunk off a few feet above ground to leave the stump visible. The next season, many new sprouts will erupt from around the cut and my plan is to simply break those off enough times the root system finally stops trying and dies. Sometimes I forget to follow up.
In addition to the big ones, there were a frustrating number of little sprouts scattered all throughout the small segment of trees.
Luckily, those little ones are easy to pull out, roots and all, by hand. I just need to spot them and navigate the tangle of undergrowth to reach each one. And even when you think you’ve pulled the last, there’s always one more that I somehow missed.
At least I’ve given this challenge enough attention that it’s manageable at this point and the progress is noticeable. The surrounding woods of my neighbor’s property are filled with many tree-sized sections that haven’t been tended to in all the years we’ve lived here.
The difference is obvious and significant.
Speaking of that property to our north that was supposedly auctioned off on the courthouse steps in July, another neighbor recently mentioned a possibility that the sale never went through for some undetermined reason. Saturday afternoon the guy was mowing the weeds on the field that had been left fallow all summer, supporting the likely assumption of continued ownership.
The more things change, the more they seem to stay the same.
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Relative Something 