Hello fellow readers, Ellie’s memorial tree is showing signs of severe decline. About a month ago, I noticed the tippy-top of her Baby Blue Eyes Spruce badly wilted. A colleague confirmed its suffering from the dreaded Needle Cast. Still, I choose to believe there is Hope.
We’ve chatted before about the devastating fungal diseases of Needle Cast or Canker Disease, blue spruce being the most susceptible (link to the column below). Both show similar symptoms of needle dieback, often from the bottom up, so seeing Ellie’s treetop first drooping before turning brown confused me.
Then comes a sign of hope.
As I stared out the window in sadness, a cardinal, red as can be, jumped onto the edge of the bay window and stared at me. Only for a fleeting moment before flying to the viburnum overlooking Ellie’s tree. They say when you see a red cardinal; it’s a sign from your dearly departed—a symbol of hope and comfort. Maybe Ellie’s tree will recover just fine.
I’ll admit I considered the Baby Blue spruce might have had the very beginnings of Needle Cast or Canker Disease when we chose it as our Christmas Tree. Two lower branches had a brownish cast. But it could be from being dug and potted up for sale. And if it’s a fungal dilemma, it’s early in the progression, I justified.
Besides, it’s a beautiful tree, and one of the few live trees left so close to Christmas. So I took the risk thinking the disease is manageable and sprayed Baby Blue with Neem Oil before she came inside. Then, each week during the spring as a preventative.
The new growth was a glorious intense blue…
And an ambitious new top crown shot up as if to say, “My roots are free. I’m going to grow into a magnificent tree.” Baby Blue Eyes (Picea Pungens) is slow-growing to fifteen to thirty feet tall and fifteen feet wide.
A further decline occurred after the cardinal’s visit, likely due to excessive drought, high humidity, and heat —a trifecta for fungal disease. I tested the soil religiously with a moisture meter and irrigated carefully to avoid wetting the foliage.
Plus, I applied Stress-X by North Country Organics. Stress-X is a seaweed extract that delivers natural growth hormones that help plants overcome stress, resist disease and certain insect pests while helping to encourage growth. But the tree became sicker.
Needle Cast is difficult to manage.
I sent photos to an associate arborist and friend, Dave Dubee. Sadly, he reports its needle cast; I think the more difficult of the two spruce diseases. He said there’s nothing to do this time of the season other than applying Holly Tone—an organic fertilizer for acid-loving trees and shrubs. And so, I did just that and will again in the fall.
Come spring, Dave suggested I treat it with a fungicide. While Neem oil has antifungal attributes, I’ll likely need the big guns. A fungicide with chlorothalonil, copper hydroxide or mancozeb will guard the new needles against becoming infected. I’ll apply one application in the spring as the new candles (buds) are half their mature size, then a second time three to four weeks later.
The hardest part…
The hardest part of watching the tree struggle is it makes me think of the last weeks with our dear girl. It’s coming up on a year since we said goodbye to Miss Ellie, and Jolee will be about a year old at the same time.
Perhaps I’ve shared I often start each column by dictating while walking as if I were talking with you, which I am doing as we speak, considering how to close our chat. I look up and notice Jolee and my shadow walking side-by-side like the shadows I relished of Ellie and me for eleven years. How grateful I am for love growing in my heart—knowing that Ellie’s love remains there too.
There’s a lesson in this story. In life, there are rhythms and cycles, just as in nature. And there are hardships and losses we cannot fix. Many things, maybe even most things, are not in our control. But we do the best we can with what we know and have to work with. And, we can pray.
We placed Ellie’s memorial tree in a perfect spot in the view from every front room, including the screen porch where a large portrait of our dear girl is now. I adore the photos I took at the “Top of the World” (Big Pocono State Park atop Camelback Ski Mountain).
A rainbow magically touched Ellie’s paw when snagging a photo of her portrait to include in this post.
A friend and colleague passed along a plaque with a sentiment written by an anonymous author. It says.
“It came to me that every time I lose a dog, they take a piece of my heart with them,
And every new dog that comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart.
If at live long enough, all the components of my heart will be a dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they are.”
It’s All About Love.