Seven Things About Trees That Are Still Wrong
Quick answer: Seven Things About Trees That Are Still Wrong — The crew that answers the phone is the crew that climbs the tree: locally based, insured, and working to the industry standards rather than to whatever the last job allowed. That matters most where the work is delicate — over a roof, beside a wire, or on a slope where the wood has to be lowered rather than dropped.
Field note. What we see is that the questions worth asking are the same on every property: who is climbing, what happens to the wood, and what the tree looks like in five years — so we answer those before we talk about dates.
On the other hand, credentials are a floor rather than a guarantee: what a tree gets is the judgment of the person in it, which is why we keep the same small crew on this coast.
Every one of these is something a client has told me, usually quoting a neighbour, a landscaper or a website. They persist because they are intuitive, and because the consequence arrives years later when nobody connects the two.
One: paint the wound
Wound paint does not stop decay and it does not speed sealing. It traps moisture against the wood, which is the condition fungi need. A proper cut at the branch collar, in dry weather, is the whole treatment.
Two: water the oak in summer
Coast live oaks are adapted to dry summers. Summer irrigation in the root zone is the most common way a mature oak dies on this coast, because it favours the root pathogens the tree has no defence against. Water young trees for two summers. After that, leave them alone.
Three: top it to keep it small
Topping makes a tree shorter for one season and more dangerous for the rest of its life. The regrowth is weakly attached and sits at the end of a decaying stub. There is no version of this that works.
Four: the roots go as deep as the tree is tall
Most roots are in the top foot or two of soil, spreading well beyond the drip line. That is why a change of grade does so much damage and why a root barrier near a foundation is a real decision rather than a formality.
Five: mulch piled against the trunk feeds it
Mulch against the trunk holds moisture on the bark and invites decay at the base. Three inches deep, pulled back from the flare, is the correct application. A volcano is a slow injury.
Six: a tree that survived a storm is safe
Survival is evidence of vigour, not of structure. A storm can open a crack that closes visually, or leave a hanger in the crown. The inspection after the storm is the one that matters, and it is the one most often skipped because the tree is still standing.
Seven: the cheapest quote is the same job
Quotes differ on disposal, stump depth, access protection, insurance and cleanup, and the cheapest one is usually cheapest because it left something out. Compare the scope line by line before the total, and ask for the certificate of insurance before the crew arrives.
Eight: a leaning tree is a falling tree
A tree that has leaned for forty years is a tree that grew that way, and its wood has been laid down to hold the lean. A tree that leaned last winter is a root-plate failure in progress. The difference is the soil: a new lean leaves a crescent of cracked ground on the opposite side and a gap at the base. The lean alone tells you nothing; the lean plus the ground tells you everything.
Nine: dead branches are the ones without leaves
In summer, every branch has leaves, including the dying ones. In winter, every branch is bare. The reliable tests are bark that has lost its colour and is slipping, a branch that snaps rather than bends, and a bud that is dry when you scratch it with a thumbnail. Those work in any season, and they are the reason a winter inspection is worth more than a summer glance.
What these have in common is that each one is a shortcut that feels like care. The real work — the right cut, the right amount of water, the right mulch ring, the written scope — is not more expensive. It is just less satisfying to describe.
Ten: the tree will heal itself
Trees compartmentalise; they do not heal. A wound is walled off, not replaced, and the wall is only as good as the tree’s vigour and the size of the cut. That is why a small cut in dry weather is a minor event and a large flush cut in wet weather is a life sentence. The tree is not repairing the damage; it is containing it, and containment has a cost.
Eleven: pruning is a spring job
Spring is the worst time for most species: the tree has just spent its reserves on leaves, the wounds are wet, and the bark is slipping. Dormant pruning in late winter is easier on the tree, easier to see, and cheaper because the crew is not fighting foliage. The exceptions are the ones that bleed — maples, birches, walnuts — which are better pruned in midsummer.
None of these eleven is complicated. What they have in common is that the wrong version is cheaper and faster, which is why it keeps being recommended by people who are not the ones who will live with the tree. The good version is not harder to do; it is harder to sell.