With the onset of Spring in full swing now, I’ve been thinking about plants this week, and trees in particular. There are quite a few beautiful old specimens in my neighborhood, some of which are over 100 years old. On my recent walks, I’ve been noticing that several of these have gone missing through the late winter. A couple were partially rotted and had become a danger to the house they lived next to. Unfortunately, a good few of those that went missing were simply unceremoniously cut down. This was done, I suppose, to afford a better view of the house from the street, since the houses then went up for sale. This is not a good reason to cut down a perfectly healthy (and beautiful, and useful) tree, in my view; but they’re not my trees, and it’s not my house. Now every time I pass the greying stumps, I huff out some semblance of a sad sigh, and move on. Except – these past couple weeks, a few of my very favorites have disappeared. Today, my usual run literally ground to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, as I stood gaping at the carnage of London Plane tree trunks cut up on my neighbor’s lawn, and at the huge vacant spaces now completely devoid of plant life. Had anyone appeared at that moment, I very likely would have demanded, “What happened??”, and launched into a blathering tirade of disbelief. Lucky for my reputation with my neighbors, I was the only one there.
In a previous life as a landscape designer, part of my work was choosing the species of trees that were planted around residential developments, homes, and in the parking lots of shopping malls. Dogwoods and redbuds are among my favorite flowering trees, and I’m partial to these, and almond trees, for my own yard. Far and away, though, my favorite “street tree” is the London Plane Tree.
There’s really nothing not to like about this species. First of all: the bark. Each trunk looks like an artist’s canvas, in grey shades of green to orange. No two are the same. As the tree grows, the patterns change, and you’re got an absolutely gorgeous, living art work for your yard – year-round! And, unlike some trees with interesting “shedding” bark, these don’t leave a mess of debris for you to constantly clean up. The bark of London Planes change bit by bit, at a slow, stately rate.
Then: the leaves. The branches of London Plane trees are among the first to bud up in the spring, and among the first trees to leaf out. They’re a beautiful true spring green that deepens through the summer. The leaves turn yellow with the first hint of Fall, a burnishing glow from one side of the tree to the other, and then curl to a beautiful light toast brown, until they all come down at the same time, usually one windy autumn weekend. They are the quintessential leaves for “crunching” through on your way up the walk to your front door. And when you’ve had enough of that for one season, they make for relatively easy clean-up and bagging, because they’re so large. Then you’ve the beautiful bark to keep you company, through the cold winter months.
And finally: this tree gets bonus points for usefulness. The large leaves and open branch structure provide the perfect amount of airy, dappled shade. You can plant a lawn or perennials under this tree, and they will actually grow – thrive, even! London Planes are also salt tolerant, an advantage if you live where it snows. They’re also tolerant of poor soils and less-than-ideal growing conditions, such as the 8-foot-square patch of bare ground in the sidewalk in front of your townhome.
In one particular part of my neighborhood, London Plane trees are planted along one side of a parking lot, and the grassy strip between lot and sidewalk is a popular dog-walk spot. As the pooch does his sniffing, I often catch myself getting lost in thought, creating infinite colorways from bark, and shade, and roots, and leaves. Someday I might even use one of these ideas to dye something! It doesn’t matter if the weather is grey and dreary, or if there’s glowing blue skies; this tree always shines, and always makes me smile. Look for them – and if you know a landscape architect, ask for them!
