Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 April 1875 — Tree Planting. [ARTICLE]
Tree Planting.
As spring approaches and we hear the note of the bluebird occasionally some clear morning from the old apple-tree in the orchard behind the house, or catch glimpses at intervals of a robin flitting among the branches of the roof-tree, how full we suddenly become of plans for the adornment of that little plot of the earth’s surface so dear to us—that point of intersecting latitude and longitude which we call home, and which to us outweighs the wide world! For one thing, there is always room for a few more trees, we say to ourselves musingly as we stroll over the dry grass of the lawn, from which the snowbanks that pressed the sere blades so flat have but just receded. The leaves are not on the branches now, and we forget how closely they massed their shade last summer. It looks now as if there were room for several more trees; here a maple or elm might easily stand, and yonder there is certainly opportunity for a goodly clump of arbor vitaes, spruces ’or hemlocks. Though the idea of giving greater attention to tree planting is seldom amiss if only the right conditions exist, yet it is nevertheless true that there is no mistake more common than that of thick planting. This is the day of rural enlightenment, when every countryman is dealt with, in season and out of season, and pathetically admonished—does he value the respect of his fellow-men—to plant more, and ever more, trees about his dwelling. He cannot escane the exhortation, for it comes to him through every channel of periodical literature—political and religious as well as horticultural.
But it is evident that to add even a few trees to the small yard—that narrow strip so commonly surrounding the dwelling—will soon make the house anything but desirable as the place for beings to live who require sunshine and pure air for their welfare. The beets and squashes in the garden will not thrive under such conditions, the shrewd farmer is well aware, and the sunshine is accordingly permitted to fall full upon the ground devoted to useful vegetation. It is well that the sentiment of treeculture has become so thoroughly popular throughout the rural community. Thanks to those zealous writers who, though perhaps sometimes allowing their enthusiasm to outstrip judgment and practicality in the details, have yet achieved a noble work, arboriculture is popular; and little is now needed with regard to its practice but a judicious direction of the taste; and the want in this respect is certainly very imperative. The first counsel, which would almost always be pertinent, is to secure more breadth immediately about the house. No pleasant effect can be attained without more scope than is usually allowed around farm-houses. It is not that the farmer is too penurious of his broad acres; he knows, indeed, that a lawn will yield him as goodly a burden of grass as his meadow; but in arranging—or, rather, in having allowed them to arrange themselves—the conveniences of the estab lishment, with its manifold requirements cf utility, he has, without designing any such result, allowed them to become cluttered. And the space that is always the most cramped is, not strangely, that assigned to the lawn and ornamental trees. It was far from the intention that the yard should become a mass of involved trees and shrubs, damp and sunproof, underneath which only a few spindling grasses and plantains could grow—nqbright,close-woven sward; but’ such is the result. ‘ Now there is one good, fertile spot of ground in close neighborhood to thel house and immediately adjoining the narrow strip of dooryara. This is the vegetable garden; and such is its position, almost universally, with regard to the farmhouse, that it is the only avail-
able ground for the enlargement of the lawn; and for this purpose it is usually admirably adapted in every respect. But as a kitchen •garden, it must be confessed, it is hardly appropriate that it should occupy the most conspicuous position on the place. It is brought to the front; no trees nor shrubs screen it; and that formal, snow-white picket fence articulates its boundaries with altogether too loud an emphasis. I have no prejudice that refuses to admire the beauty of leaf growth in the vegetation of use, as well as in that of ornament; but it cannot be denied that the garden, in that obtrusive position, must often be other than a grateful object for the eye to rest upon—in its rectangular spring formality and its irregular autumnal seediness. Now that sunny, genial plat of ground, always before your eyes, is the very thing, my good fellow, you are wanting for space in which to set those trees you have been planning to transplant this spring; and doubtless you can persuade yourself to spare it for the purpose. But, if I mistake not, there need be no retrenchment in the matter of salads and pickles. There must, lam sure, be some other piece of ground, still convenient to the dwelling, where the cultivation of the indispensable products of the garden can be carried on to even better’advantage; where, perhaps, there is more room to avail yourself of the horse, in place of expensive manual labor; and where the severe toil required will all go toward production, instead of half of it to keep the garden beds in comely and presentable condition for the dignity of the front. In most cases, if that one garden-plat can be appropriated, no other addition will be necessary for the lawn of a modest country place. But beware lest the bane of the narrow yard be perpetuated in the new ground. Trees should be set out at intervals; and around the borders, particularly, the planting should be close, with a dense undergrowth of shrubbery to shut off too obtrusive a view from without; for seclusion is one of the great charms in such cases. But in the midst, above all, have a clear, smooth lawn, unobstructed by tree or shrub, where the thick, close-shaven grass may revel in those rays which paint its brilliant emerald.
What a rest and joy to the eye is such a little view directly before the windows of the rooms in every-day use! In early spring or late autumn it does not lose its whole beauty; and even in winter the smooth, white expanse, fringed by evergreens interspersed thickly with the deciduous growths, is cheering. This grass-plat should extend unbroken to the very house; and the sunshine should be permitted to flow almost unbroken into the living rooms. Often, after you have secured the new lawn, with its simple and inexpensive attractions, including a few neatly-kept flower-beds cut into the grass, it will be found that much of the* earlier arboricultural work in the old yard will need to be somewhat summarily dealt with. There should, at least, be a remorseless thinning out until a sufficiency of sunlight can reach the house on all sides. But in all improvements on the pleasure grounds of a country place it is well to be on one’s guard against attempting too much, particularly in the matter of minor details, which would of ten, indeed, be welcome adornments did they not require a constant outlay to keep them up. Walks, for instance, are expensive fixtures, but the grass will serve quite as well to walk upon in most cases, and but very few are really necessary—none except near the house, where they would be in constant use. There is no end to the beautiful details with which wealth can enhance the charm of rural surroundings; how easily will the labor which would suffice for the good cultivation of a large farm be swallowed up in an acre of pleasure grounds! But we of moderate means may well feel contented when we reflect that all the most beautiful attractions of a rural home, by judicious choice and skill in the arrangement, are within our reach. The grass will sprout green and thick upon the humblest man’s rood of ground; and no other adornment is, after all, at once so beautiful and inexpensive as trees.— Christian Union.
