Tree Tuesday: The Old Ash That Was and Why

Despite 17 years of crossing regularly Square St-Louis, it was only last summer when I noticed a glorious old ash among the predominant silver maples. Growing along the north side of the square, in between Laval and Henri-Julien streets, its buff coloured bark, deeply crevaced in the diamond shapes that are typical of the northern red ash species (frêne rouge, Fraxinus pensylvanica), the tree suddenly stood out. I followed the great girth of its trunk skyward and locked eyes with a squirrel that had paused to negotiate its next leap.

Ash trees that size are rare in the city. While the tree is one of the most commonly planted in parks and streets, most aren’t more than 20 years old. The only other I’d seen of similar stature was in a damp patch of the lower east flank of Mount Royal.

This is a tree that likes the wet, that can take spring flooding. It’s natural habitat is alongside rivers in the company of other floodplain trees such as white elms and silver maples. Paradoxically, that’s what makes it a good urban tree. Riverside soil that is regularly flooded in spring is soil that is compacted and low in oxygen. Sound familiar? Yes, those characteristics are just what you find in the tree plots cut into the sidewalk and in high-traffic parks.

When I became conscious of that tree, I began to wonder if it had been planted when the square became a park in 1880 or if it was a vestige of the de Courville farmland acquired in 1848 by the City of Montreal to create a municipal reservoir. The Ruisseau de la Côte à Baron  once ran through that sector and the tree would have been in the right habitat. Here’s a photo of the square in the late 19th century:

Judging by its size, I guessed my ash to be between 100 and 150 years, meaning that it was most likely planted when the edge of the square was landscaped around the open reservoir (which was closed in 1879 when the McTavish Reservoir opened). In the above photo, it would be one of the first trees at the northwest corner of the fountain. The young trees planted around the fountain are mostly likely white elms.

Now, if I had the time and the certainty — I’m not a dendrologist, just an observer — I could count the rings. For, as you have certainly guessed from the photo at the top of the article, my ash is no more. Sometime within the past week, it was cut down. (The photo below, taken by Alanah Heffez in an NDG alley, gives you an idea of the bark on this younger — 50-year-old? —  ash. Unfortunately, I have not photo of the old tree.).

I was saddened though not outraged when my friend Charles delivered the news after crossing the square. I had already noticed a few old silver maples chopped down in Parc La Fontaine and I know the city tree service has to be diligent in taking down the trees that pose a danger to citizens. I suppose the ash was in that category. Certainly, it had already lost a major branch and, as I recall, there was a good split in the trunk. When I visited the stump, I’d hoped to find an explanation posted which is the new procedure in the Arrondissement Le Plateau-mont-Royal when a tree must come down.

When I found no such explanation, I called Lynda Genois, an arborist for the arrondissement and someone who has been very helpful. Not aware of this particular tree, she assured me that no trees comes down needlessly and I do believe her. Given that it will take a while before the young trees reach the grandeur of the old silver maples, Norway maples and lindens  that line some of the wider main arteries and the residential streets where city trees are planted on front lawns, the tree services of the various arrondissements work to keep the old trees going.

Gregg Staniforth, an arborist in NDG-Côte-des-Neiges says that in his borough the decision to prune or chop down a tree includes such factors as when a tree is declining or dead, shows weak forks or decay at a structurally vulnerable area, or a combination of several factors. “A Norway maple, for instance, has lots of very large leaves and if the tree has a weak fork, there could be pressure on that fork in the event of a big wind. The location of the tree would be another factor in deciding to take it down or, perhaps, to preserve it with mechanical bracing or cabling.”

Staniforth keeps a list of trees to monitor, such as those showing signs of weakness, such as a branch with no leaves or leaves that die suddenly, or a crack that is widening and remaining wide. “Not every crack is dangerous,” he emphasizes, explaining that some trees, like lindens and Norway maples, frequently develop frost cracks, cracks that appear in winter with the expansion of water, trapped in the tree, as it freezes, then scar over in spring.

He notes that citizens frequently call with request to have a branch removed, a tree pruned and, in some cases, removed. “Most of our work is generated from calls,” he notes, saying that so far, in 2008, his service has received 2,000 calls. “That’s partly because we have so many old trees,” he says, speculating that in inner city areas, such as Ville Marie, where there are many new trees being planted, it is likely that fewer citizens call the tree service.

Unfortunately, I never reached the person responsible for the fate of the Square St-Louis ash. So, I can’t tell you exactly why it came down, what happened to the wood and whether it will be replaced. I hope to have those answers by next Tuesday.