I don't do much yardwork anymore, but I learned how to do all that stuff under the tutelage of my father, and those lessons learned stick with me yet today.
You don't have to be a tree surgeon to understand how things work out in the yard. Take mulch. The goal is to provide a bowl for the tree to hold water and keep nutrients in place. Using organic mulch (bark mulch, wood chips, leaves, and so forth...even pine needles) is the only way to go. It helps the tree to retain moisture (especially important in summer!), keeps the soil from washing away, improves the soil as it decomposes, and keeps the soil temperature more consistent by insulating the ground against cold and heat.
And not mulching properly leads to disease and decay from moisture retention on the trunk, insect damage, rodent damage, too much dampness for the roots (just as bad as too little), and this: if the roots do not develop what they call a normal "root flare," the tree will be unstable and more prone to falling in a storm.
The rule is to form a donut of mulch...and the mulch is not supposed to be touching the trunk! A lot of people go by the “3x3x3 rule”: 3 inches of mulch, 3 inches from the trunk, in a circle 3 feet wide.
And that leads us to the worst mulch sin of all: piling it up against the trunk. The dreaded "volcano mulch" is quick and easy (and bad for the trees), but you see it in shopping center parking lots, apartment complex common areas, and other areas where a quick and dirty job fills the bill. So avoid this:
4 comments:
I just got smarter-thanks!
Dad knew everything about the lawn except for how to get me out there working on it!
You have inspired my next book -- Confessions of a Volcano Mulcher. (It is probably a good bet that the title isn't already in use.)
My Dad used to have to bribe me to mow the lawn. Imagine his frustration when, years later, I mentioned to him that I'd come to find lawnmowing relaxing in a Zen sort of way. The universe had its revenge, though. I have a son.
I never enjoyed yard work since it takes place outside. But when I finally wrested most of the laundry duties from Peggy, I found that Zen you found with a lawnmower! Piling dirty what-have-you into a steel box, adding fluid and pushing a button, then returning in 35 minutes to move that soggy heap into another machine and pushing another button, only to return in an hour to a dry heap brings me immense joy (and clean briefs!)
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