Flying into Houston's Bush Intercontinental Airport in the March 2007, my first glimpse the trees was a lot like the lush green panorama depicted on this 1891 map. I had seen much of Texas over the years, from Texarkana to El Paso, Dallas, Austin, San Antonio, Abilene, and countless small towns in between, but somehow never made it to Houston. I arrived for a weekend of house-hunting as a reluctant trailing spouse when my husband relocated here for work.
As a lifelong New Englander, I wasn't thrilled at the prospect of moving to the Lone Star State, but the sight of the verdant forests filled me with hope. Four and a half years later, I've found much to love about my new home, beginning with the trees.
In normal years, our East Texas climate here is more like that of Louisiana than the west Texas deserts. Trees define us. According to the "Texas" Compass American Guide:
Of 207 species of trees native to Texas, 142 grow in the acidic soils of East Texas...Pine trees - longleaf, shortleaf, and loblolly - provide the evergreen background throughout the year, and in summer, magnolia, oak, elm, hickory, tupelo, sweet gum, and black gum trees add subtly varying shades. Creamy white magnolia and dogwood blossoms and pink azalea blossoms create springtime accents, and the brilliant oranges and reds of sweet gum leaves against the pine trees render autumn dramatically beautiful.
Even my little quarter-acre lot featured nine trees when we moved in: 5 live oaks, 1 water oak, 1 tall, venerable bull pine with a giant lightning-strike scar, 1 "Little Gem" magnolia, and 1 crape myrtle. We soon added 2 Bradford pears, 2 hollies, and another magnolia. You can't have too many trees. They are an endless source of beauty and joy, and have provided habitat for birds, lizards, and insects, in addition to providing shade in the relentless triple-digit heat.
All my trees survived Hurricane Ike in September 2008. This was great news, because the Houston area lost huge numbers of trees.
Little did we know that all this would be the least of our problems. Now, after a year of epic drought, it's only the fact that we have been able to water our trees and care for them with the help of an arborist that has kept them from succumbing to drought, disease, and death. Wildfires, while touching some towns near us, have so far - knock on live oak wood - spared our community.
Urban tree canopy in Houston and Galveston took a major loss from Hurricane Ike. The Galveston Island Tree Conservancy is working to restore some of the 40,000 trees lost on the island, with help from Tom's of Maine. Further background can be found here including a 44-page PDF entitled "Galveston Re-Leaf".
Houston's tree canopy - the pride of generations - was also hard hit by Hurricane Ike. The numbers are sobering:
While there is no universally accepted number of Ike-killed trees, Ward estimated at least 6.6 million trees perished in the September 2008 hurricane.
Follow along below the hole in the urban canopy to see how we're dealing with the loss in some resourceful and creative ways...
Texans love their trees, and after Hurricane Ike, they set to work looking for ways to re-use or recycle the many trees that were lost. In once example reported by KHOU:
Debris from Hurricane Ike is helping keep history alive. Trees damaged in the storm are being shipped to Spain to build a replica of the Galveztown, an 18th century ship. The project is designed to honor Bernardo de Galvez, the namesake of Galveston. Galvez was the Spanish governor of Louisiana and served a vital role in the American Revolution.
In Galveston, trees irreparably damaged by salt water from the 12-foot-plus storm surge had to be taken down, to the dismay of residents. Artists pressed to keep the stumps in place, turning them into gorgeous sculptures that exemplify the island's continuing recovery from coastal hurricanes.
In today's Houston Chronicle (no link available yet, sorry), Galveston Mayor Joe Jaworski shares some advice from the island's experience:
As the people of Texas confront the loss of millions of trees in the aftermath of fire and drought, many of us in Galveston are recalling the gut-level sense of loss we experienced after damage from Hurricane Ike forced us to cut down thousands of the island's trees.
Jaworski cites the lessons learned, including:
The first lesson the residents of Galveston learned was to not wait for the government or other outside groups to solve their problem, and I say this as the city's mayor. No matter where you live or how you vote, trees usually get short shrift, particularly during an economic downturn.
Second, every tree planted in Galveston over the past two years has come with a commitment from someone to water and care for it.
...Third... Galveston has started to treat trees as vital infrastructure. Trees need to be maintained, just as we maintain our bridges and roadways.
Trees as vital infrastructure: I absolutely love this idea.
Whether you're dealing with your back yard or a city or a county, trees should be a priority. For all that trees do for us - providing shade and habitat and oxygen, beautifying our vistas, reminding us of the forethought of former generations - it's really the least we can do for them.
=
=
=
Note: In Part II of this diary, I'll discuss the effects of our epic drought, which has ravaged the trees left intact or weakened by Ike. Part III will deal with the wildfires that have torn across parts of Texas. It's too much heartbreak for one diary.