The Importance of Pines in our Urban Forest

This grove of longleaf pine, planted by first graders at Kate Sullivan Elementary in midtown Tallahassee, is 13 years old at the time of this photo. Vanessa Walthall revisited the grove when she graduated from college in 2008; she was one of the first graders who planted the trees. The grove remains an important part of our urban forest. Photo by Donna Legare.

In April I discovered the nest of an American Crow high in a mature loblolly pine tree in our back yard. The nest is an accumulation of sticks attached firmly to two large limbs close to the top of the tree. I watched an adult crow hop into the nest, but they were for the most part quite secretive over the entire nesting period.

This reinforces what I have known for years – the importance of mature pine trees in our urban forest. At Native Nurseries in Tallahassee where I worked for 40 years, Red-shouldered Hawks nested repetitively in three different mature pine trees over the years. We watched the parents haul in snakes, crawfish, and frogs to feed their young. In my neighborhood we have observed Mississippi Kite and Cooper’s Hawk nests, again, always high in pine trees. But honestly, I had no idea where crows nested until I saw this crow in my back yard. Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology’s All About Birds website notes that crows prefer to nest in conifers but will nest in deciduous trees when conifers are less available.

Unfortunately, between lightning strikes, hurricane losses, and irrational fear of pines, suburban and urban Florida is losing its pine canopy. At the nursery, we observed that customers bought perhaps one hundred hardwood trees for every one pine tree. The old pines are not being replaced. On our nursery property, we have lost grand old pines mostly due to lightning strikes and resultant pine bark beetles. Each time we replace the missing pine with a young one.

The home of Ann and Don Morrow is nestled beneath a lovely grove of pine trees which is an important feature of their wildlife habitat yard where 89 species of birds have been observed. Photo by Ann Morrow.

To plant a pine, choose a sunny area. If you are at the Gulf coast, choose a slash pine which is the most salt tolerant species. Most typical soils around Tallahassee support loblolly, shortleaf, longleaf, slash, and spruce pine. We prefer to plant longleaf since it is less common and it is a strong, long lived tree reaching ages of 300 years. No, I will not be around to see it, but we are planting for future generations.

Spruce pines are somewhat shade tolerant. They have soft short needles and small cones and have a very graceful shape, often holding on to their lower branches for many years, unlike the other species of pines.

The home of Ann and Don Morrow is nestled beneath a lovely grove of pine trees which is an important feature of their wildlife habitat yard where 89 species of birds have been observed. Photo by Ann Morrow.

If you have space, plant a small grove of pines. Their proximity to each other will help protect them during high winds. Friends Ann and Don Morrow live in the Melody Hills neighborhood beneath a handsome grove of pine trees. They have lived here for over 30 years and have never had a branch fall on the house. In high winds the trees sway together in the wind supporting each other.

The best tree planting time is November through February. Start small with six-inch bare root trees to ones growing in three-gallon pots.

Pines are very desirable. They provide a light shade that native understory trees and shrubs prefer. They provide free mulch every autumn for use in landscape beds. They are long lived and make excellent carbon sinks. They harbor a world of insects that become food for birds. According to the National Wildlife Federation’s Native Plant Finder, 171 species of moth and butterfly caterpillars use pines as a host plant in the Tallahassee area. This is significant during bird nesting season as the high-quality protein of caterpillars is the preferred food for nestlings. In addition, seed bearing cones are an important source of food for birds and mammals.

Pines are such beautiful, stately trees. I love to listen to the wind rustling through their needles. Let’s start planting more pines in our yards and parks. Wildlife and future generations will reap the rewards.

Lawns? Yawn! Plant Native Groundcovers for Excitement and the Environment

Phaon crescent butterfly on native frogfruit. Photo by Janis Piotrowski.

Not all nature-loving hippies are peacemakers, at least not when it comes to manicured lawns. Murderous pleas to “kill your lawn” implore suburbanites to ditch the pitch and plant native instead. This native groundswell grows larger by the day as more folks learn about how small changes in their lives can make a big impact in their environment. Native groundcovers fill this niche and, often, fill in areas where sod might never grow.

My personal lawnicidal urges began in January of 2021 when my sod turned brown due to the cold and simultaneously drowned in the winter rains. I walked outside and my yard felt more like a sponge than a lawn. I looked up a simple solution to this issue and learned that many native plants absorb a lot of water. I planted a native tree, native shrubs that love wet feet, and water-loving wildflowers, all of which reduced the standing water in my yard to a great extent.

Still, areas my dog traversed showed signs of wear and tear in addition to crispy brown grass in the summer and soggy brown grass in the winter. So, my experiment with native groundcovers commenced. I dug out sections of my lawn, mulched, and planted native groundcovers.

Below are profiles of these individual plants and my observations.

The fan-favorite native frogfruit (Phyla nodiflora) thrives in full sun to part shade, adapts to many different soils, and grows vigorously. Chartreuse green vines reach and ramble, crisscrossing itself multiple times. These vines boast tiny, white flowers with purple centers containing flecks of gold. Bees alight on the blooms and multiple butterflies, including common buckeye, phaon crescent, and white peacock, as well as skippers and moths, use frogfruit as a larval food. Frogfruit spreads by rhizomes and endures trampling from pets, foot traffic, and mowing. Frogfruit keeps foliage in the winter, shedding a few leaves and looking less exuberant, yet still maintaining a nice plentiful appearance.

Sensitive plant or sunshine mimosa (Mimosa strigillosa) loves full sun to part shade and takes moist soils. Its pink, cotton candy blooms resemble the blooms of its relative, the invasive mimosa tree (Albizia julibrissin). This native groundcover sustains insects, hosts the little sulphur butterfly, and provides coverage for frogs. It spreads by rhizome and grows aggressively. This plant cooperates less than frogfruit and its deeper roots make it harder to pull and a bit more unruly than the frogfruit. The only drawback? In the winter, the foliage thins out and leaves behind a sparse vine.

Sunshine mimosa being grown as a groundcover for blueberries. Photo by Janis Piotrowski.

Wild strawberry (Fragaria virginiana) grows well in full sun to part shade. Classic white strawberry flowers appear in early spring followed by tasty small strawberries in the summer. Wild strawberry grows prolifically by runners and adds a bit of whimsy to the yard while providing food for you and other creatures. Wild strawberry’s tough leaves flip and flop over when kicked around, but this plant thrived despite frequent sabotage by my bulldozer of a dog.

Golden ragwort (Packera aurea) maintains its evergreen, fun lilypad-esque foliage and even blooms in the late winter. Its stalks of yellow flowers provide winter pollinators food when nectar sources are scarce. This perennial groundcover spreads by rhizomes and fills areas in a nice carpet of flush green. A combination of golden ragwort and leaf mulch satisfactorily prevents weeds from breaking through, but this plant does not take as much traffic. Place in full shade to part sun with moisture.

Golden ragwort maintains evergreen foliage and even blooms in the late winter. Photo by Wendy Klooster, Ohio State University OARDC, Bugwood.org

Partridge berry (Mitchella repens) requires full shade to part sun and loves a moist forest bed. Its small evergreen leaves add a texture and pattern. Partridge berry blooms white flowers in the early spring and bears tiny, red berries for animals from fall through winter. This plant SLOWLY colonizes! Partridge berry tolerates some foot traffic and loves mulch but cannot compete with more aggressive groundcovers or grasses.

Shade-dependent Walter’s violet (Viola walteri) slowly colonizes by seed and rhizome. Its silver foliage thins out in the summer but fills in vacant areas during the winter. Tiny purple-blue flowers like jewels shimmer across the landscape. Walter’s violet tolerates light foot traffic and mostly fills in patches. Do not expect a crop of these violets to spread the entire width of your yard.

The major takeaway: plant native groundcovers with the knowledge of their on and off seasons. Native groundcovers are like the tides, they come in and go out. They encroach and retreat during certain seasons so plant them appropriately. And do not be afraid to plant them beside each other for this very reason! Close plantings, like waves, crash into each other and form beautiful collisions.

Native groundcovers often suppress weeds and provide wildlife food. Minimize your lawn and maximize your biodiversity by planting native!

In Love with Acorns

I love acorns – their simple beauty, their value as wildlife food and the promise they hold for the future.

The caps are cute and some have very interesting textures and patterns. A swamp chestnut oak’s cap consists of many woody scales in an intricate overlapping pattern. It is large enough (up to 1¼ inches wide) to serve as a squirrel’s helmet if it only came with a chin strap. The over-cup oak’s cap is unique because it encloses ninety percent of the acorn.

The live oak acorn, when freshly fallen, is white on top, grading into pale yellow and on to dark green. I love this acorn after it has had time to ripen and change colors. The top becomes tan and transitions into a beautiful black. I like to buff them to get a striking sheen and have a handful sitting on my dining room table with a fresh green sweetgum ball and a branch of pokeweed.

I suspect deer, turkey, bear, woodpeckers, wood duck and 75 other species of wildlife see beauty in calories and full stomachs. Acorns can be a staple in their autumn diet. For a deer, a large swamp chestnut oak acorn at 1.6 inches long and over one inch wide would be a tasty morsel indeed.

I enjoy watching a busy squirrel dig a hole, place an acorn in it and pack the soil with a jack hammer action, then sneakily hide the spot by raking leaves over it. I wonder if it will find the acorn during winter. If not, this acorn holds a promise for the future. With warming soil in spring, the acorn is split in half by the root and tender shoot and a new oak tree is on its way. The root grows quickly and deep, beginning to form an incredible anchor, sometimes extending three times the spread of the branches above. The shoot depends on luck that open space waits above providing maximum sunlight and room to grow to its full magnificent size and shape.

Size and shape vary in the noble oaks—from the diminutive running oak, usually less than three feet tall and forming extensive ground cover by underground runners, to the stately southern red oak, up to 125 feet tall. The Florida champion live oak in Gainesville has a spread of 160 feet and a height of 85 feet. I’m lucky to have a patriarch live oak in front of my house on Ellicott Drive in Tallahassee. It has three huge vertical trunks and one big horizontal limb 36 inches in diameter that sprawls 81 feet across my yard. It is a massive weight to hold horizontally, requiring strong wood. The limb seems to be tiring with age; it rests wearily on our yard. Fifteen years ago it was six feet off the ground.

I like to think of this tree as mine, but it really belongs to the people of Tallahassee. This tree produces many acorns. The few that survive the blue jays, squirrels and acorn grubs may grow into other majestic specimens for future generations to enjoy. So the acorn holds a wonderful promise for the future. Maybe that is why I love acorns so much.