There’s no better time to plant a tree

Story and photos by Kate Harries

Fall is the best time to plant a tree. My method is to dig a hole the size of the root, use a garden fork to punch some holes in the bottom, water, allow to drain, spread the root out carefully and feed the soil back in. If you’re planting a native tree, and those are the only kind I plant, there’s no need for special soil or amendments. As long as it’s in an appropriate environment – shade for striped maple, sun for tulip tree, moisture for Ohio buckeye – the tree will settle in because it’s where it belongs.

However I do use a mulch. You can use wood chips but those look corporate to me. If I were to use them, I’d try to ensure they are aged and beginning to decompose. I prefer leaf mould, which is made from the leaves of the fall of last year gathered into a mesh bin and watered from time to time. They have mostly rotted down into a fresh-scented humus that is just a pleasure to spread around flower beds and newly planted trees.

This fall, it's pawpaws

I’m planting pawpaws. The fruit is about the size of an avocado and the custardy flesh is reputed to have a flavour that’s a combination of banana, pineapple and mango. It was apparently much appreciated by the megafauna that preceded us on this land. It doesn’t travel well because it bruises easily, which is why it’s not a commercial proposition and no one I know has ever tasted it.

My pawpaws are going into a field that’s mostly alien invasive grasses, although yellow prairie grass and switchgrass have started to fight back and spread. So I have been happy to try commercially available weed suppression squares made from moisture-retaining hemp fiber. They are pricey unless purchased in bulk, but I think, placed above a layer of leaf mould mulch, they will help the seedlings along. I want my new pawpaws to get the best possible start as they’re only a foot tall, and eliminating competition in the rooting area is a big help. I added a piece of spiral tree protector for good measure although these trees are apparently loaded with toxins that makes them unpalatable to rabbits and browsers.

Lesson learned from my Ohio buckeyes

If you have the space, don’t just plant one tree - - plant three. The first and main reason is pollination. I have a lovely Ohio Buckeye, grown from a nut harvested from the courtyard of the Simcoe County administration building. The buckeye is of the same genus as the Eurasian Horse Chestnut and it has the same glossy rich brown ‘conkers’ (named after the game in which contestants wield a string of nuts to smash an opponent’s string. The winner has ‘conkered’).

The buckeye I have is alone in its field and did produce nuts this year – that were harvested by squirrels (they are so busy!). I understand that pollen from a separate tree is needed for buckeye seed to be viable. I was confident I could source the seed for more trees from the administration centre.

Alas, I found a couple of weeks ago that the half dozen buckeyes that grew there have gone, all but one which is looking quite parlous. Victims to the drought, perhaps. The survivor’s conkers rattled dry when I picked them up from the ground. But there were some still in the husk on the tree, so I took those (with permission) and hope that they are viable. I will protect the conkers on my tree next spring with netting and hope they too are viable.

Hope is the joy of trees – the hope propels you into the future and the joy is to think that they will live for decades after you are gone.

Kate Harries owned the plant nursery Return of the Native north of Barrie. That’s now closed, although the website remains online.