Pruning trees is primarily a mechanical process and every good arborist has studied the science of tree care. But there is more to pruning a tree well than just making proper branch collar cuts and keeping the total green removed under 25 percent. The difference between a stable, healthy tree and a best-on-the-block prime specimen is a climber who applies the basic science with an artistic eye. As an arborist who considers this art-meets-science approach one of my specialties, it should come as no surprise that I've been drawn to the art of bonsai. Bonsai means growing trees in tiny pots but training them so that, if viewed outside of any visual perspective, they appear to be full-sized, mature trees.
I'm calling this my first bonsai. I have dug up seedlings here and there in my yard, hoping to turn them into bonsai someday, but none has survived. This is a tree that was purchased from a bonsai merchant as a bonsai tree. It is a "Green Mound" juniper (Juniperus procumbens nana). That's how the sticker lists it. I don't know much else about it.
Launching this venture is a serious undertaking. Some bonsai trees have been passed down for generations. Yet one lapse in the watering schedule during a heat wave could end it. I was a little afraid to do anything with my new tree at first for fear of the wrong thing. I studied every angle at great length and wondered what the person who potted it up and developed these three primary branches had intended. Which way should I bend branches? What should I cut? Book learning answers these questions in theory, but nothing was coming into focus on this tree.
Finally, I just had to dive in. I put the tree in its new pot, tried to stand it up a little (though I suspect someone was planning for it to lie prostrate and weep over the side of the pot), wired it in place, added the substrate, and began bending the three branches upward to make it seem more like a tree.
Be wary of looking at this chronicle as a how-to guide, since I'm only operating on book learning here. In fact, that definition of bonsai above might not be the best. I assume I will make mistakes, but this site will document them and I can see the results over time. I hope that will be enough to keep this tree alive, or, failing that, the next one. If you see my mistakes and wish to edify me, feel free to do so in the comments. Please do not be offensive or I will delete and don't be offended if I ignore your advice in favor of my own mistakes.
What you see here are not really the pictures I should have started with. Somehow, I failed to get a picture of the tree in its original pot before any wires or pruning. But these are pretty close. This is right after I put it in this pot and put in the first few wires that redirect the growth to create a more mature-looking shape.
I have some difficulties ahead of me, I think. I am an arborist in Austin, Texas. We don't have many evergreens here. This species is unfamiliar to me, so I am not sure what mature needles look like, where new growth tends to sprout, or what miniaturized foliage would look like if I achieved it. I suspect it would prefer a milder climate than it will have, especially if last summer was any indication of what it can expect. I don't really know what a mature one would look like in the real world. And my bonsai skills, as I have said, are pretty much theoretical. I don't know where, when, or how much to cut. I don't know if I should be trying to grow the branches longer, or if I should drastically prune them back into the interior of the plant.
In my favor, I think my experience as an arborist has given me a good sense of what a mature tree should look like. I've also done a lot of gardening over the years, so I have made a lot of pruning cuts on a lot of plants and have watched how they responded. I am primed to learn quickly as I see how the tree responds to my early efforts. I'm not sure how I'll deal with things like 110 degree weather and watering over vacations, but I look forward to seeing how it goes.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
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