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.

So melt, already!

Thank goodness the latest nor’easter missed Massachusetts. There’s still snow on the ground, though. I’m itching to get outside and start spring gardening, but this snow is holding me up.

Snow still hanging around earlier this week

    Kevin Newman and his arborist team came by Wednesday to prune broken branches out of a white pine near the house. They’re working flat out after three storms this month that have brought down trees and countless limbs. Luckily they managed to squeeze in my small job at the end of the day. They ran the pine branches through the chipper and left a big pile of wood chips in the driveway, as I’d requested. 

Wood chips!

This should be just the right time for spreading those chips on paths and around trees and shrubs as mulch. But I can’t do it until the snow melts and the ground dries out a bit. I don’t want to compact the wet soil by tramping over it with a wheelbarrow.

    It’s also the right time to prune shrubs before the leaves show. 

Without leaves you can see what you're pruning

I did some pruning during a warm spell in February and filled up the garage with yard waste bags. I have new tools I’m dying to try, ratchet pruners and loppers. My wrist fracture has healed, but my grip strength hasn’t returned yet. These tools should allow me to make pruning cuts with less effort, if only I can get out there and try them. 

Adaptive pruning tools require less strength

    It’s traditional to plant peas around St. Patrick’s Day. I’d like to get the seeds into the ground by early April. They enjoy cool weather, as do lettuce and arugula. I want to sow a first row of greens soon. Let’s hope the snow on the vegetable bed melts within a couple of weeks.

    Last fall I optimistically planted a lot of spring-blooming bulbs in one large pot. I’d read you could set several levels of bulbs in the same container. There’s a layer of tulip bulbs at the bottom, with daffodils in the next layer and grape hyacinths above them. The pot has been in the cool basement, covered with wire screening to keep out hungry mice with a taste for tulip bulbs. Now hopeful sprouts are pushing at the screen. 

Potted bulbs need to get outside

I should be moving the pot outdoors, but I’m afraid the weather is too cold. I may have to move it inside and out as the temperature fluctuates. To bloom well, the plants should be outdoors.

    And what about all the seedlings that are sprouting under lights? Eventually I’ll need to move them too outside to get them used to sunlight. Will spring have arrived by then?

Borage and basil will need to move outside

    Outdoors the stalwart snowdrops and witch hazel flowers keep blooming. They have proteins in their cells that act as antifreeze. When the snow melts, the still-fresh flowers emerge unharmed. I wish snow had as little effect on me. 

Snowdrops unfazed by a foot of snow last week