Only the Strong Survive

Chinaberry debris

Chinaberry

Florida has its share of hurricanes and tropical storms, but none have made landfall close to me since my move here over two years ago.  When I lived in Seminole, my landscape took the brunt of a Category 3 hurricane and escaped virtually unscathed, but as Eta bore down on me in what looked to be a direct hit with 70 mph winds, I wondered if I would be as lucky here. As it struck in the dark of night, I had to wait until dawn to surveil the possible impact of this storm.

Much has been written about choosing native trees for a number of reasons, and some have centered around their strength and ability to withstand significant weather events, including high winds. Not all of what is written is true, however, as this sort of strength is not purely confined to nativity. 

A mature red cedar across the street from me

It is true that a great many of the fast-growing nonnatives planted so commonly here in Florida are weak. Fast-growing trees are almost always inherently so. We most-often are willing to trade speed over strength when it comes to our landscape choices. The chinaberry (Melia azedarach) that has resided near the southeastern corner of my yard is a good example. The reason this tree hangs over a now-vacant lot is that part of it fell several yeas before my move here and crushed the home that was once nestled snugly on this lot.  The former owners did not rebuild and it sits vacant now accruing fines that no new purchaser has dared to inherit.  With Eta, the rest of this tree has snapped off and my hope is that the County will finish the job of taking it down in the weeks ahead. That the tree did not survive Eta did not surprise me. It was the first thing I looked at the morning after.

What surprised me, however, was the loss of the majestic red cedar (Juniperus virginiana) that grew along the retention pond bank across the street and to the west of my home. It shouldn't have, however. A year ago, in a much less severe thunderstorm, it went from a paired-trunk tree to a single one. The left side broke, much the way the photo shows above and it became a single trunk tree. Though red cedars elsewhere in my neighborhood survived Eta unscathed this one had a history of inner weakness and Eta exploited that.  What this showed me,, once again, is that even native trees can have inherit weaknesses, that good arborist practices are just as important to them as it is to nonnative trees and that location is critical. The fact that it was a single tree unprotected by others or by structures exposed it to all of the fury of the storm.  Many years ago when Hugo struck South Florida with Category 5 winds (1989 to be exact), friends of mine in the path of the storm suffered very little damage in their home surrounded by an intact piece of native Florida pineland.  The trees took some of the brunt of those winds. The single trees and the structures in the open were essentially obliterated.  

I have planted a small deciduous woodland in the northeastern corner of my lot and a scattering of trees in the northeastern corner as well. These are native trees, but more importantly, they are planted in clusters. None are "specimen" trees, planted all by themselves for aesthetic effect. These clusters were planted for their wildlife value, but I also gave consideration to the storms that may lie ahead for them and me. It is true that some trees are weak, that many of the nonnative trees planted all around me are much weaker than their native counterparts, but tall trees have rarely evolved to exist as "specimens". They evolved in communities where each protects the others to some degree.  Select trees not for the speed of their growth, choose those that are known to be stronger than other possibilities, but more importantly consider where and under what context they will be installed.