Posts Tagged ‘pruning growth’
Early Preparations
The arrival of humid air was certainly palpable the second we opened the door yesterday afternoon as the clouds thinned and peeks of sunshine appeared. The temperature climbed into the 70s (F), inspiring us to spend a little time down at the labyrinth.
World Labyrinth Day is only three weeks away, and we would like things to look their best, despite this being way too early in the growing season for plantings to look healthy. The vines climbing the gazebo look rather skeletal.
I pruned the weeping crabapple tree, contemplating the odds that it will be flowering in all its glory during the first weekend of May. The log stools around the fire pit had rotted to the point of disintegration. I toppled them and rolled the pieces into the brush beyond.
Cyndie wanted to make a mossy boulder in the brush beyond the labyrinth more visible, so I trimmed away the shoots growing up in front of it. I have no idea if its glory will continue to stand out once all the leaves around it show up, but it is worth a try. It is a beautiful specimen.
It has come time to deal with the dead maple transplant at the center of the labyrinth. The young trunk has developed a nice covering of lichens that accentuate the fact that it is no longer living.
I wrapped my hand around the trunk and pushed and pulled to see how much it would sway. The saturated ground made it sound like the roots were moving in standing water. Not having a saw with me at the moment, the tree stands for another day. One of the upper branches has already snapped off. I found it scattered on the ground below about a month ago.
On my way back to the barn, I noticed a young willow tree had sprouted its catkins. Leaves won’t be far behind.
I am very curious to find out how much different everything will look by May 2nd. It is already evident that there are places where the grass will need to be mowed between now and then to give our place the most welcoming of appearances for the number of first-time visitors we are expecting this year.
Whether or not we get several consecutive dry days sometime during that span will go a long way toward determining whether the ground will be firm enough to support wheeled equipment without making an unsightly muddy mess.
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Beauty Sacrificed
I was clearing growth from one of our trails and came upon this wonderful sight:
Then I cut it down. [sad face] I sure love the look of those leaves.
There was a time when Cyndie and I were so invested in having as many trees as possible that we couldn’t push ourselves to cut any of the volunteer growth that sprouted. We tried hard to transplant the little oaks and maples that showed up in locations where they shouldn’t be.
Those efforts were rarely rewarded. We saw so many transplants die and so many new sprouts return every year that we finally came to our senses and allowed ourselves to cut growth that popped up where we didn’t want it. These days, I’ve become much more ruthless than I ever imagined when it comes to culling new sprouts.
Yesterday, I found myself working in the vicinity of Cyndie’s perennial garden to cut back overgrowth. There is a point in the summer when unwatched growth goes nuts all of a sudden. Junk trees must gain a foot every day or two. Weeds jump to heights taller than the trees.
Along the trail behind her garden where I had weed-whacked early in the summer, there were little explosions of growth rising out of previously cut stumps. (We don’t apply any chemicals to the stumps after cutting.) When I cut down medium-to-small diameter tree trunks to clear a trail, stumps sprout countless new replacement shoots. If I don’t return in a timely fashion to eliminate the new sprouts, what was once a single tree becomes a monstrous shrub.
If I am tenacious enough to do frequent battles against the stumps’ attempts to reclaim their former glory, follow-up pruning isn’t that big of a deal. But if I wait a little too long, it requires a lot more effort. Luckily, it only takes two or three growing seasons before the stumps finally give up and I ultimately get my way. At that point, my well-groomed trails become as visually pleasing as the beautiful surrounding trees that we didn’t need to sacrifice.
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Relative Something 