For me, there is always a jockeying between American beech and white oak as a favored specimen tree. When grown alone, they each fill the space in its own unique way; the oak with its strong, 90 degree angled limbs and the beech with a bounty of delicate grey branches; both vying, in my mind, for first place.    The beech that I speak of is one that welcomed visitors into Enchanted Woods near the Lower Sundial Garden.  This beech had a wide spreading canopy that in places was low enough that you could not walk underneath it and it shared this space with no one; just the small amount of lawn that was able to withstand the conditions.  To say that this tree had presence is an understatement.  It was the focal point—no matter the season—as one climbed the hill on Garden Lane from the Reflecting Pool toward the turnaround.  It was the punctuation point at the end of the horticultural sentence. 

This was a tree that I have long admired.  The above picture was taken in spring several years ago in an attempt to capture the expanse of its canopy and it began its slow decline soon thereafter.  The massive trunk once cut and on its side, revealed no rot; it just suffered from an ever increasing canopy failure with the final collapse occurring over the summer.  After that it was not only disfigured but deemed no longer safe. As the leaves were mulch mowed and collected this fall it was for the last time.  The plants near by that stretched for light will now have more abundant sunshine.  Understudies now take its place, like the dawn redwood off in the distance or the saucer magnolias when they will flower unobscured for the first time this April.

This is a common cycle in historic gardens where focal points and views and vistas come in and out of focus with the successive growth of plants.  In the spring we will plant a young tree, an American elm cultivar that will bring, in time, a magnificent arching presence back to the space.  I know that it is a sight that I will not witness but in my mind’s eye I can already see it.  It’s part of the beauty of planting a garden.

Among natural resources, trees are unrivaled in their usefulness.

From cleaning the air to shading our homes to supplying the raw material for countless products and purposes, trees epitomize the term “multi-tasker.”

Join Winterthur’s arborist superintendent John Salata for an introduction to several of our native “wooden wonders,” and an enlightening discussion on the multi-faceted and vitally important role trees play in our backyard, our lives, and in the world.

Join garden guide specialist Ed Stevenson for a walk through the garden, looking in detail at those majestic woodland trees, the oaks and beeches.

Their identification, characteristics, growth conditions, and how they may be used in a home garden will be explored.

What started out as a walk to document the garden turned into a healing moment. I didn’t even realize I needed healing but breathing the fresh air and walking under these magnificent trees gave me a moment to reflect. Monday, May 25th started out quiet and calm; a sweet holiday for remembering the sacrifices made to insure our freedom. Then, a phone call from my sister in Iowa as she told the very recent (that morning) story of how her son, having just graduated from high school the day before, rolled his pick-up three times and escaped as it was going up in flames. Seth, dear to us before, is even more precious now.

That afternoon, I heard from my mother saying that her uncle passed away at the ripe old age of 95. I had hoped to see him at our annual July reunion. These things were all rolling around in my head, hidden by the concerns of the day. Near the end of my walk, I came upon the stump of a beech tree. A huge branch fell from its upper reaches on May 16th and the entire tree had to be removed. As I touched the moist stump, unexpected tears fell. Thoughts of my almost-lost nephew, my soft great-uncle Harvey and the many old trees in the garden rushed in.

I’ve spent much of the spring looking at flowers – squill, azaleas, lilacs and peonies in abundance – and not paying one bit of attention to the magnificent trees in the Winterthur Garden. The recent loss of the beech reminds me of each tree’s lifespan and of my own. Each day is a gift to unwrap, enjoy and use wisely.

Come enjoy the garden. I recommend a solitary walk to give your soul time to breathe and heal. Meanwhile, I resolve to make reservations to attend the Siglin family reunion this year.