We're at the tail-end of the season's biggest snow storm...over a foot and counting. I spent two and a half hours this morning knocking snow from the branches of conifers groaning under the added weight (albeit not the heaviest snow that could have fallen). Now I'm the one groaning—but my fingers have finally thawed enough to write.
Whether or not to lighten the load is one of the age-old questions of gardeners in temperate climates with winter snows. Broken branches are a horror, ruining appearance and creating maintenance work. Branches bent to the ground just tug at the heartstrings of many...who can't resist aiding their plants. But is it necessarily good for the them?
There are at least two schools of thought on this conundrum. The first is Darwinian. It's a laissez-faire approach characterized by statements like, “Let Nature take its course—it's the way it's supposed to be,” “Snow and wind are nature's pruning crews,” or, “Snow takes only the weak, damaged, or poorly purposed branches improving the overall condition/appearance of the tree.”
This school is convenient, in that it absolves the gardener from having to don layers of winter wear, venture forth, and raise a cold-weather sweat. It is also nature's way—think of the millions of trees that don't have anyone to fret over their mantles of snow.
And yet...many of us have special trees, often weeping or contorted, with branches that are—by their nature—weak and not growing in a normal way, usually already bending toward the ground. The trees attended to here at Turtle Point fall into this category. The signature plant here is
Tsuga canadensis 'Pendula'--and no ordinary aggegation of them. These are old, good-sized specimens ringing a point of land jutting into the lake. They are exposed and flat-topped, perfect landing pads for loads of snow. Losing branches from trees like these is a painful prospect—and one that can be ameliorated by knocking snow from horizontal branches and moving underneath the tree to stir the canopy from beneath, sifting the snow load through the foliage to the ground below.
Is such assistance necessary? Is it good for the tree? The answers in my case are “no” and “maybe.” Thrashing around on top of, and underneath the trees does generate its own stress and potential for damage. It's not likely to be as traumatic (and some dead wood could get knocked out of the way in the process) but you will feel guilt when branch tips are pruned like a squirrel would in a spring oak. They're pretty obvious, laying there in the lily-white snow like something you did wrong that your mother holds right in front of your face to make her point.
All and all, I'm in school number one. Despite that, I do what I can for certain trees. Maybe it's only good for me, because I feel like I'm doing what I can. I'm generally not in favor of doing things just to make work. If the branches are meant to go, they eventually will. But, because of my help, or in spite of it, they'll make it through another winter.
Brrrrr.....now thaw out YOUR fingers and head back to
BotanicalGardening.com.
