A Tree Grows (too much) in Mexico

I thought maybe I’d write about having the flu in Mexico, because I do. But it’s much like the flu anywhere else, and what with the DEADLY coronavirus grabbing all the headlines, I don’t expect anyone would pay much attention. I am in no danger of dying. Indeed, I am on the mend. So I’m returning to a subject I’ve touched on before: trees.

Last July, we had a diseased elm tree taken down. It was an emotional moment, a tree we’d watched grow from a seedling. A reminder of time and inevitability. A crew of men came in with ropes, harnesses, and chainsaws, and within a matter of a few hours, it was done. I miss it.

We’re in our Guanajuato home now, where we are shaded by huge eucalyptus trees. They probably took root a few years after that elm tree at home. They’re a fast-growing, shallow-rooted, drought-tolerant tree that should never have found its way from its home Down Under to Mexico. It was originally introduced to “clean up” wetlands and reduce cases of malaria in the Mexico City valley. Later, the government encouraged its expansion as part of a growing wood-pulp industry. Wikipedia considers it an invasive species. 

It’s especially ill-suited to our property here, which slopes abruptly downward, and can only support vegetation because it’s been filled in to provide a level surface for building. One of our two trees has become too top-heavy to be safe. We don’t know exactly how deep that soil goes, or what was there beneath the fill, but given the slope of the surrounding land, it’s fair to say not more than a few feet. I imagine a shallow web of roots hovering just below the surface, ready to pop out of the ground with the next big windstorm.

Also, the neighbour adjacent has several of the trees standing but dead, waiting to fall. A warning that some care must be taken.

Eucalyptus trees have a number of less-than-endearing qualities. They drop leaves and little seed cones constantly, and they shed bark so that slabs of it are always under foot. They suck so much water from the soil that nothing else can grow nearby, no doubt why the species was considered useful in preventing malaria. But they are trees—something to be grateful for in this arid, dense city. They provide shade, pick up breezes, and house birds.

In the larger picture, they’re also a source of medicinal oils which—according to WebMD—show promise in treating asthma, bronchitis, dental plaque, bad breath, head lice, headache, ulcers, fever, flu…FLU? ..and other conditions. What’s not to like?

Side note: It’s the oiliness of the eucalyptus tree that helps fuel the fires that have been devastating the forests of Australia.

The tree that worries us the most also provides shade for a neighbour’s rooftop…a gift we’d hate to renege on, given the scarcity of natural shade.

So, we asked our friend and caretaker if he knew of someone who could prune our tree drastically. Of course he did. He and his cousin would be pleased to.

They showed up this morning with rope and harnesses (thank goodness), a machete and a hand saw. That’s all. When Jack questioned them about rounding up a chainsaw, it was a non-starter. I questioned the wisdom of sending someone who had never used a chainsaw up into a tree, but that was a moot point. A quick survey of fellow north-Americans who might have such a tool turned up blank. 

I’ve been listening to the steady clop-clop of the machete all morning. The two guys spell each other off. Jack and I go outside now and then, look up, and suggest yet another large branch to come down. We keep thinking about chain saws.

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It’s late afternoon now. The job is nearly done. We’re hoping a friend will come by with a pickup truck and haul most of it away for firewood. The photo below shows about half of it.

The tree looks a bit scrawny, but eucalyptuses (eucalypti?) grow back quickly. By this time next year, it’ll probably be full again.