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Call mourners from afar.
And remind them to bring a chainsaw.
We get together and prepare to say goodbye to the palm trees in Los Angeles.
Los Angeles knows how to survive the crisis. Angelenos is taking advantage of its resilience and strives to build a city for everyone.
Don’t be surprised. This is not a warning about wholesale dying in the palm of your hand. It’s not everything, not immediately. But the evangelists have gotten that right about all that has a season, “time planted, time to pick what is planted.”
For many of our palm trees, the season – a long, long victory season – runs its course. Our exotic, charming, accidental forests are slowly timed out.
Can you imagine Hollywood without palm trees?
(Justin W. Dennis/Justin-Stock.adobe.com)
We stand at the inflection point in LA after the fire, a grip on climate change, and after re-adjusting our future to the roots. Literally at the roots. Countless thousands of trees burned in the fire. Thousands have faded more due to illness, drought and age. How can we replace forests in elderly cities with more and better trees?
The original LA was not primitive for forests. It was a landscape of crude shrubs and chaparrals and grass. The native trees there grew alongside the water, flowing in abundant amounts with each season. Until we take over the land and drain the waterways.
The palm trees came to town with missionaries for religious rituals. Then, decades later, Southern California’s big PR sales pitch was “American Mediterranean” and called for the palm tree, the right set dressing.
The beautiful movements of the city in the 1910s and 1920s and the glory of the 1932 Olympics made it look great, with thousands of trees of all kinds of being stuck into the ground. It was a disagreement to worry about drought and heat.
Angelenos’ faith that he could grow up in almost anything here was usually right. The most unlikely tree cuttings from around the world were brought here, adapted, and the locals were put on their elbows.
Therefore, Los Angeles became a wooden zoo.
Now it’s time to turn it into a wooden box, but not all species should have it on.
Climate change changes cities. Freeloader trees are no longer attractive. The palms suck water like camels, but reduce enough leaves to shade the hula hoop. Falling leaves can be an average bang, and during a fire, the palms brighten like flares.
People use garden hoses to put out the palm tree fire on January 8th.
(Jason Armand/Los Angeles Times)
Non-profit Treapur has been trying to prepare us for this for years.
Brian Väjar is a master arborist who directs community forestry for Treaupur, and in fact he has some thoughts on the topic. This is the moment when we need to hear them.
“Tree is not cosmetics, it’s not a decoration. It’s also a critical infrastructure like traffic signs and traffic lights. It has great value for the health and safety of our community.”
“We should plant trees that serve a wide range of ecological benefits. There’s not just one clear answer. The trees we plant must be suitable for the climate forecasting climate for 50 to 60 years.”
“Native trees support local wildlife, especially local wildlife endemic to geographical biomes. Pollinators, nest birds, migratory birds and other species depend on them.”
“There aren’t many trees to check every box. They need a tree that is very durable and highly resilient and can withstand many different soil types in a particular community.”
Well then, that’s right. What’s in it, and what’s going on when you plant old or new trees?
OUT: Most palms. And don’t replace them with something like Crape Myrtle.
Most eucalyptus, out. They are invasive under the ground, and the tiki torches on top.
Sweet gum, out; they also drop nasty, pointy balls like alien spools, which are invasive, allergic to cause. (Some trees will appear on the city-approved list, but Trepiople will give them a “branch.”)
Jacarandas will blossom in Long Beach in May 2024.
(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)
I share the disgust of Vejar, who hates the merciless “tree of heaven,” a merciless “tree of heaven,” a merciless “tree of heaven.” You can see it everywhere. It not only brings together the indigenous people, it also poisons the soil to kill competition and ruin biodiversity. The leaves can also kill your dog. If you see it in your garden, kill it before it kills us.
Vejar’s “INS” includes native oaks and some sycamores, black walnut trees, desert willows, drought-resistant African urushi, and Chinese Pistache.
Ficus trees remove air pollution and cast a vast shade. This is important if urban forests can lower temperatures from 10 to 20 degrees. It’s ideal, isn’t it? However, the city was planted incredibly alongside the sidewalk.
“What makes it a mainstay for urban forests has to ensure that cities have to pay millions of cases for tripping, ADA violations and more.”
So, suppose the palms take their final bow? Are you ready to step onto the stage as our new arboretum star? Oaks and Sycamore are too common. An orange tree? Memento Mori.
But Jacaranda – now has beauty. Grows rapidly, shaded and generous, drought tolerant and soil penetration. Bees and butterflies love them. And did I say I’m beautiful? The shimmering ultraviolet haze around the blossoming Jacaranda brings a moment of transcendent fascination.
So what happens if the fallen petals are sticky? It is a small sacrifice paid to glory. Like the gum wad that was dropped on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
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