It is an enormous relief to be told that climate change is the greatest hoax ever to be perpetrated on humanity. Probably the biggerliest one too. Almost certainly emanating from China. So we need to find another explanation for the recent spate of storms that continue to fell trees in our garden.
Storm Floris was particularly unwelcome, occuring as it did in the middle of summer when everything is in full leaf. This one came from the west, meeting our boundary at its lowest level where mature sycamores and ancient ashes have their roots in the wet ground adjacent to a small stream.
The most egregious consequence of this untimely assault – and the only one still awaiting remedial action – is a centenarian ash that demolished a much younger sycamore before reshaping the end hoop of a polytunnel, though without doing serious damage to the whole structure. The stump of the sycamore now supports the trunk of the much larger tree which lies at an angle of forty-five degrees, its crown hanging ominously above the polythene greenhouse, swaying dangerously in the teeth of Storm Amy – the latest non-example of climate change to terrorise an ageing gardener.
The next largest casualty was a sycamore that crashed into a ten-year-old planting of Abies grandis. Slightly smaller, but much younger was an aspen we planted in the eighties that fell into an oak of similar vintage, uprooting the masonry surrounding an old well, and knocking seven colours of muck out of a Cunninghamia lanceolata,a Salix magnifica, a Crataegus prunifolia and a Corylopsis of unknown diocese.
There were others, including three Salix petandra that were partially or completely knocked over, plus crown damage to a couple of oaks. All in all we were faced with a lot of work, which we thought would be made easier by acquiring an electric, tracked barrow. Arriving three days after placing an online order, this promising-looking piece of kit unfortunately came with at least two faults which rendered it ‘unfit for purpose’. The process of returning it lasted as long as the job of manually shifting a very large quantity of timber and brash – most of August and September.
Floris appeared almost exactly two months ago, and Amy has only just passed by. On the bright side this deceptively-named horror has shifted a large ash hanger that would have been difficult to move safely. Fortuitously it just missed landing on our only Picea breweriana, which stands a better chance of achieving maturity given the increased light now available.
Also encouraging is the relative lack of damage so far discovered from this latest event. It is tempting to think that this succession of storms, beginning with Arwen in 2021, has selectively removed the most vulnerable of our trees, leaving the vast majority strengthened by the assault. This is wishful thinking, no doubt, not unlike a prediction that I made earlier in the year that Trump would be finished by Christmas – an idea that seems less fanciful after him having recently recalled his generals from around the world to warn them of obesity.
Storm Amy is just quietening down. We have yet to assess the full impact though have already noted some injuries, including crown damage to a Pseudolarix, probably the slowest-growing tree we have ever planted.
Floris left a much larger mark on the garden, not to mention muscular wear and tear – but also a substantial quantity of firewood, plus brash, or hag as it is known locally, that converts into the woodchip mulch that we depend upon for managing the garden. And, as already indicated, the loss of trees can redesign a garden in a positive way, by reducing shade and root competition and thus encouraging existing underplantings while also providing space for new and exciting replacements.
In any event, Floristry is an ephemeral development in the context of Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan,……..Nevertheless it is an ill wind that blows from the West.