body count: what the october snowstorm took

THE TALLY IS COMPLETE, though I avoided facing it for nearly two weeks. My dear neighbor, Herb, with the smaller of his trusty chainsaws, did the deed: took down the disfigured or otherwise devastated woody plants that the freakish October 2011 snowstorm maimed. I walked around with him the other day, once I had gotten past the initial shock, and pointed: Take the left side of this; this one goes completely; remove the three broken stems from that one. And then I went out for the afternoon, returning only after all evidence was erased. (Wimpy, I know.) The body count:

In addition to lots of big parts of old maples and oaks along the woodland edge of the garden:

  • Lilacs: These were the hardest hit of everything, and I stand to lose 6 mature shrubs. So far: 1 takedown of a 15-footer; 3 partial similarly large upright shrubs removed (subject to probable removal next year–doubtful they’ll rebound); 1 rounded, shrubby specimen looks iffy, too, but we left it till spring;
  • Metasequoias:  ‘Gold Rush,’ 1 takedown; 1 very large green-leaved type lost a lot of branches (we shall see on that one);
  • Willow: My beloved rosemary willow, Salix elaeagnos, took multiple hits. It will live, of course, but what a mess; will work on reshaping it once its leaves fall;
  • Viburnums: 1 large partial shrub removed (may outgrow);
  • Dwarf white pine: 1 arm removed (thankfully the old Pinus strobus ‘Nana’ will outgrow the loss);
  • Sassafras: Top of tree and one side of lower canopy broke off in storm; will be a takedown shortly. Those are some of its former branches loaded into my old pickup, above. Just three weeks ago a garden friend visited and said, “Your sassafras is really shaping up into such a great tree.”
  • Magnolia: 3 hefty chunks removed (will outgrow the loss);
  • Apple: a side of one of the old trees had to go (even more-lopsided-than-ever tree will remain).

The same friend who commented on the sassafras says this about garden losses:

“Bury your dead, and fast.”

The idea, he’s been reminding me over and again the last two weeks: Erase the evidence of disaster, and start imagining what you will put in the empty places–a much better view of the landscape, and life, than holding on to disappointment, of course.

{ 32 Comments }

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comments:

  1. I am so sorry for your losses. Such horrible reminders of how temporary we all are. Now you have the winter to dream and plan to fill those spaces. Peace.

  2. Not happy, but I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason. Maybe next year you’ll see a changed vista and decide you like it better — or you’ll come upon a new shrub and now you have place to put it.

    I have to agree with your friend. The first step to moving ahead is to clear out what’s lost.

    In a couple of weeks you can give thanks for all that remains.

  3. Just found your blog recently and really enjoy it. I feel your pain. We had wind storms in May this year. Kept losing limbs in a couple of Bradford pears. We kept cleaning them up until the last one then both had to go. They have been replaced with Japenese Maples but it will be years before they have the same presence in the garden. Also lost a large limb in my Forest Pansy redbud.

    Glad to know you like sassafras trees. There are three of them here. My dad was appalled that I was letting them grow in my garden since he spent his youth with a grub hoe clearing them from farmland.

  4. Margaret, What is your take on extremely large, mature trees with canopy damage? I have at least 4 with damage way, way up there. Should I just have an arborist prune the lower branches that are damaged and leave the rest to mother nature? Or is this bad for the tree? The estimate for the tree work is so much, and I am hoping to cut the price down a bit, but I don’t want to compromise my trees. These are trees at the beginning of a wooded area but on my lawn.

  5. I am so sorry you lost these things! Your garden will recover and your friend is right, always look forward, not back.

  6. Lynn E Thompson says:

    Is that your house on the left? That must have been a lot of work. Glad you have Herb.

    On a more positive note: do you do any crafts, special cooking, art etc. to sell for the holidays?

  7. Hi Margaret,

    I remember the rosemary willow in particular and how beautiful and lacy it was…what a shame, but as the comments above point out, we will soldier on and make mulch out of the remains and look to the next planting season! Things are shutting down here in Chicago, but some Japanese maples, gingkos and pears are still blazing with color–very late too for us, it seems to me.

  8. Yes, Lynn, that’s the house uphill from the metal gates. Herb is a stalwart. I don’t do anything to sell for the holidays, no (except the usual postcards and books that I always have in the “shop” online).

    Hi, Sue Ellen. I love the sassafras, and have waited many years for this one to grow up. Now, I worry that there is no way it will very be a tree again, really. If it is a goner, I will get another for certain.

  9. It is always hard to lose what we love, but the great thing about Gardeners is that we always have an on going wish list of trees and shrubs that we would love to grow, if only we had the space. I truly enjoy your site. Thank you for the time and commitment that you put into it.

  10. Good recommendation to start imagining what you will put in the empty places. I vote you try something new that you have always wanted!

  11. Lynn E Thompson says:

    Looks like you have the ‘nice’ life upstate.. am a little jealous!!

  12. So sorry to see your ‘body count’.

  13. Thank you, Carol. You are right: the wishlist will get indulged a bit now, and I am already starting to get used to a few of the adjustments in the view (some are just too awful, but some are growing on me, tee hee).

  14. Sorry the season has been so difficult already. Your gardening is so inspiring, though. Thanks for all of the great tips!

  15. I’m jealous of that pick up truck- that’s next on my garden wishlist. There’s too much that won’t fit into a Civic! Sorry about your losses, Margaret, especially the lilacs :(

  16. You are welcome, Anne, and nice to “meet” you. We shall overcome, right? :)

  17. The damage was awful in this area of NJ, but I won one battle. A large maple limb crashed down on the Adirondack chairs that I built 5 years ago. I spent an hour or so replacing the broken parts and it helped me deal with the other losses. If only trees and shrubs were repaired so easily.

  18. Hi Margaret,
    I lost (or so I thought) an “ancient” lilac 2 years ago. A bush that was planted by the original owners of our house – late 1800s/ early 1900s?? But, low and behold, it rejuvenated the following spring. Don’t lose hope! If it’s one of the old stand-by’s and was happy in its location, then it will probably come back.

  19. Oh, Brian, the good and the bad come together, don’t they? I am trying to be philosophical here, too. Nice to see you.

  20. So sorry for your losses. I never get snow or ice damage down here in Florida, but we do get cold damage. Last winter my pistachio tree lost a lot of limbs to cold night. But it did make a nice recovery with lots of nuts. Nature decides to do a thinning but she always rebounds anew

  21. I cannot believe we did not lose more than a few limbs here and there in White Plains (NY) but I attribute some of it to close attention to pruning especially the big white pines that were planted many, many years ago before we owned them on a property too small for them. As much as we would love to let them just grow and grow, we realized we need to do things like top them and lop off limbs if we are to keep them, our house and our neigbors’ houses safe from falling branches in bad storms. Our lilacs had a terrible summer with all the rain and were already pruned to a fraction of what they have been in their glory. Maples, cedars, spruce, redbuds, virburnums, azaleas, dogwood, magnolias, macro hydrangeas and spring flowering shrubs miraculously suffered little damage. For several days, we lifted their branches that were buried under inches of snow. And they all seem to be saying “thank you” now.

  22. Martha Pendleton says:

    Hello Margaret,

    I am sorry that you lost plants to the latest big storm. That is heartbreaking . . . especially if it is a long loved specimen. We do not have weather as an excuse
    for the loss of plants. With us, it is our dogs. They have torn out countless plants
    from well rooted to recently planted and we are at our wits end as to what to do
    about it. Any suggestions? We have an acre, which may be small by some standards, but it seems enormous to us and cost is a factor. Thank you for any advice along these lines.

    Martha Pendleton

  23. benjia morgenstern says:

    Sorry to hear about all this destruction..You are teaching us all how to deal with this loss and move on. Thankyou.
    While watching the heavy snow fall I saw my young trees bend their crowns to the ground. I ran out with a broom and swatted the wet snow off several times during the storm and so my losses to these youngsters was nil. But my large maple had too many severed limbs and won’t shelter me from the sun as well as it did this past Summer..moving on. benjia morgenstern

  24. Carole Clarin says:

    Must have been difficult seeing all the damage! Let’s hope that when the “real” winter arrives it treats you kindly.

  25. Losses provide opportunity!

  26. Lynda Hennessy says:

    Oh Margaret I so feel your pain. My one and only dogwood has major damage. I cleaned it up best I can but the leader is snapped too. I too will rely on my friendly neighbor to trim the leader but I’m afraid the tree won’t make it in the end. I planted that tree 18 years ago and the past two years I spent scaping the underneath with shade-loving perennials. I was inspired by your “connect-the-dots” theory and did exactly that with a neighboring perennial bed. Prayers for Ms. Dogwood !

  27. Prayers here, too, for your trees and mine, Lynda. Thanks for saying hello. I am trying to get used to the “missing teeth” here but in some spots it’s a little bit shocking still.

  28. If it’s any consolation, eastern NE had one of those October freaks a few years ago. In time your heart and landscape will mend. Among my losses, the top of an old growth shagbark hickory. I had the tree guys cut off a 4ft. limb that was a million splinters where one split occurred. The splinters are actually curved from the force. It stands proudly in my great space as a reminder of who is in charge.

  29. Mourning the large and small losses of life always reminds me of something my Mom told me once. Standing in her garden, which was 3 times the size of mine, my 82 year old heroine responded to my comment that, “Nothing ever dies in your garden,” by laughing. “Of course things die but I see it as an opportunity to plant something new or different or again and move on.” Mom died in 1996 but she stands with me in my backyard, my garden, my orchard and holds my hand when I mourn my losses. Then reminds me to get back to planting. I hope you will find some consolation and move on.

  30. Your mother was so right, Pat, and thanks for sharing her persistent wisdom. Sweet of you! Moving on over here, slowly.

  31. Sad! But the future will be bright … Last year I lost 2 large shade trees (Lightning) and so an entire shade garden had to be moved. In that huge space we put a beautiful flag stone patio and a plethora of new roses, perennials and other lovelies that love sun. It was fun. But, first we cried! Look forward to hearing about your new plans. http://thegardendiary.com/spring-patio-project/

  32. Barb Schmidt says:

    We have learned the hard way to brave the storm while in progress and get the snow off the plants – a few times if necessary. It worked for us this time except for the winterberries which are bent to the ground. I’m hoping to be able to trim and use stabalizing wiring in the spring to bring them back to their upright growth habit. If that doesn’t work, we’ll just consider them nature’s work of art as they are.

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