As the twig is bent, so the tree is inclined

With branches bare, I’m getting a good chance to observe how my trees and shrubs are pruned—or not. My idea of a well-shaped tree or shrub is one that looks as if it just naturally grew into a pleasing shape that expresses its best self. Some of my shrubs look that way and a small number of my trees. 

I can't take credit for shaping this Japanese maple. It just grows this way.

I wish I’d been bolder and more alert about pruning when they were young. It’s not too late, though, for the ones that are small enough for me to reach from the ground. 

    One of my first major garden purchases, in around 1989, was a crabapple tree, Malus ‘Donald Wyman.’

'Donald Wyman' in bloom-photo wundoroo

The cultivar had just won the Pennsylvania Horticultural Society’s Gold Medal for its toughness and disease resistance. The tree is still with us, producing pink buds every spring that open to white flowers, but its shape isn’t particularly pleasing.

In winter the crabapple's awkward form is painfully evident

    ‘Donald Wyman’ has had a hard life. First I planted it next to the house, then a few years later moved it to the foot of a big red oak. That meant we could enjoy its flowers from the house, but its branches had to reach out away from the oak to get sunlight. After some misguided initial pruning during which I mistakenly cut off flowering spurs, I mostly left its branches to grow however they would. I could have helped the shape of this tree a lot if I’d intervened in those early years.

    A doublefile viburnum that I brought home later (Viburnum plicatum f. tomentosum ‘Shasta’) fared better. 

'Shasta' in its May beauty

By this time I was more experienced and less timid about pruning. I’ve revisited the viburnum every year in late winter and again in June after it blooms. As a result of this gradual nudging and its tolerance for partial shade, it’s kept a full but natural-looking form. I see that this year I’ve let some suckers shoot up from close to the base, marring the silhouette. Those can be easily nipped off in March.

Cutting out the tan vertical sprouts will help keep 'Shasta' healthy and good-looking

 

 

    My pruning aesthetic doesn’t involve shearing. I don’t like to see neighborhood shrubs carved into little meatballs, though I recognize that a romantic, billowy garden can benefit from some straight lines and dense forms. At this point I’m just trying to keep up with pruning out dead wood and crossing branches. I have a few pruning projects on the docket for late winter 2020. 

    A top priority is to start reshaping a poor smoketree (Cotinus coggygria ‘Royal Purple’) that, like the crabapple, has grown lopsided by reaching toward the sun. 

The smoketree has grown toward a patch of sun

By taking down hemlocks two years ago, we enabled the smoketree to start filling in its undeveloped side. I want to cut off some branches on the other side to encourage the reshaping process.

A smoketree that got enough sun

    I don’t think of pruning as unnatural. After all, wind, disease and lightning take branches off too. I like to see pruning as encouraging woody plants to fulfill their potential. Besides, pruning in winter reminds me that spring will eventually come.