I don't know what it says about me exactly, but for some reason I always seem to end up living next to a graveyard. Granted cemeteries aren't so rare that most people haven't lived close to one at some point in their lives, but so far every place I've called home has either been directly next to, or just down the street from a big graveyard. Even my ol' homestead was just a minute walk from a massive cemetery that you could get lost in if you didn't know where you were going.
Don't let the pretty Sugar Maples fool you....
As any rational kid would conclude, my family would be the first to get munched on in the inevitable zombie apocalypse. I used to lie awake at night planning the best escape route should a hungry horde of 'em finally burst through the door.... the rest of my family was on their own (that's what you get for sticking me in the bedroom next to the basement), anyway I digress.
In addition to giving me way too many vivid nightmares and an overly intense fear of death, this proximity has made me extra observant when it comes to the character of these places. There's one particularly forlorn graveyard that I pass by on my bike ride to work that has recently caught my attention. As with most small city spaces the... aaah, uuuum... occupants? are packed in way too close for comfort, leaving basically zero room for your typical graveyard trees. The few decent sized trees that have managed to eek out an existence are relegated to the edges of the lot, squeezing themselves into the few far away corners where the weed-whackers and road salt can't reach. Which brings me to the most prominent feature of the graveyard..... a real life zombie!!!!!
The "zombie" (and no, I'm not talking about the old guy on the sidewalk, but the dead American Elm, Ulmus americana he's standing next to. Sorry old guy)
Unfortunately, the tree zombie apocalypse seems to already be here, and its putting many of the recent undead themed blockbusters to shame. More and more of our native species seem to be entering some sort of disease induced twilight existence; while not entirely extinct, they haunt their former ranges as mere shadows of their former selves. While everybody seems to know the story of the American Elm (Ulmus americana), there's also the American Chestnut (Castanea dentata), Butternut (Juglans cinerea), our native Ashes (Fraxinus spp.), our native Hemlocks (Tsuga spp.), Flowering Dogwood (Cornus florida), as well as many of our Viburnums (Viburnum spp.) and yes I know they're not trees but I wanted to include them anyway. There are many, many more that I could easily add to this list, but I figured it was depressing enough already.
THE (once) dominant tree species of the northeast (the American Chestnut, Castanea dentata) is now reduce to nothing more than the occasional root sucker.
Those trees species that manage to escape total devastation are often still faced with the persistent threat of exotic pest and disease. The biggest and most recent of these (that has gotten a lot of press coverage and for good reason) is the Asian Longhorned Beetle that has the potential to devastate nearly all U.S. hardwood populations. In addition to potential threats there are plenty of exotic genus specific diseases that while may not be as devastating as some, often contribute to the overall declined of what would otherwise be a healthy tree. Even our native Beech (Fagus grandiflora) is faced with an exotic pest that destroys the most distinguishable and beautiful feature about them, turning their smooth bark into a festering cankerous mess.
Beech Bark Disease - IT'S ALREADY HAPPENING!!!
And of course, the source of nearly all of these diseases (or at least the source of their introduction to North America) are anthropogenic (a.k.a. us dumb people and usually associated with my profession, landscape architecture). The alarming maps charting the rapid spread of these epidemics could easily stand in for any scary, scientificky looking graphic in afore mentioned blockbusters.
Emerald Ash Borer Spread (2011)
But all hope is not lost, or at least not completely. In a few of these instances the source of many of these species destruction is also the source of their salvation, or at least sort of. In the case of the American Elm, American Chestnut, and Flowering Dogwood, they all have fairly closely related Asian and/or European counterparts (Ulmus parviflora, Castanea mollissima, and Cornus kousa to name a few) where many of these diseases are endemic, thus offering a genetic source of disease resistance that is being breed into our native species in an attempt to give them at least some fighting chance (while also corrupting the genetic integrity of the species, but hey, what you gonna do...). In addition to these efforts, our native population of both American Elms and Flowering Dogwoods have produced disease resistant individuals that are now available in the trade (Ulmus americana 'Valley Forge' and Cornus florida 'Appalachian Spring'). So all hope is not lost. You can even observe this first hand. For example, anyone who gardens next to or around an American Elm (before they are inevitably killed by Dutch elm disease) knows that they are prolific seeders. The shear number of seedlings trees produce provides some hope that eventually at least some small portion of these seedlings will develop greater and greater resistance with each passing generation.
Next time your walking around any old northeast town or city take a look in the nearest abandoned lot. You'll be sure to find at least a few young American Elms, maybe even some decent sized trees.
In an effort to help stop the spread of these and other diseases that have the potential to completely wipe out our native forests, plant resistant varieties and be wary of newly introduced exotic species that are closely related to our natives as these could be harbingers of the next dutch-elm disease (a.k.a tree zombie apocalypse). Also do your best when purchasing natives to avoid importing from areas that are heavily infested. People zombies might be science fiction, but tree zombies are science fact. They might not eat your brains but the actual impacts can be pretty damn sad. Consider the film below and do your best to keep the next tree zombie apocalypse from happening.
