Gardeners, horticulturists, botanists, foresters and naturalists should feel sick or heart-broken, or both, about the outbreak of Emerald Ash Borer (EAB) across the Midwest and Upper Midwest. Minnesota's 940 million ash trees will probably succumb. Sadly, this scenario has been played out in the past by different pests–Dutch Elm Disease, Chestnut Blight and Dogwood Anthracnose–and, no doubt, will be repeated in the future.
Unfortunately for wholesale and retail nurseries that have inventories, an ash is a poor choice for a new tree purchase. Unless Minnesota is extremely lucky and escapes the fate of many states to our east, all three species of our ash trees are targets and could die.
But because I'm a "glass is half-full" kind of person, let's look at alternatives to ash trees. Here are my seven favorites.
Amur cherry (Prunus maackii) This is the only non-native tree on my list. It's often overlooked but should be planted more often. I first saw one about 15 years ago at a peony nursery where I bought some 'Freckles' violets. The bark is a rich, bronze-cinnamon in color which exhibits a peeling look similar to River Birch. The foliage is fine-textured and turns a bright yellow in fall. If that's not enough, white, cherry-like blossoms flower in spring and turn to blackish fruit in late summer. The tree is native to China and hardy to Zone 3.
Basswood (Tilia americana) Have loved this tree since a mature specimen graced my first garden and dwarfed our little white cottage. I'll always remember the fragrant blossoms, friendly heart-shaped leaves and many suckers!
Honeylocust (Gleditsia spp.) If ash's compound leaves attract you, consider a Honeylocust, although its leaflets are much smaller and quite delicate in texture. The heavy, stout branching pattern is similar (to support those big leaves!) and will provide a comparable, sculptural winter feature.
Ironwood (Ostrya virginiana) Very cool, smallish tree with horizontal (sometimes drooping) branching habit. Many features commend it: fine-textured foliage turns pretty yellow in fall, gray, shaggy bark and interesting fruits that look like hops.
Maple, Red (Acer rubrum) This native is amazing. In spring it flowers early with fuzzy red blossoms before it leafs out. The red samaras that follow are dainty and fall in heaps on a windy day in summer. Later it's an early tree to mark autumn with (what else?) red leaf coloration.
Maple, Sugar (Acer saccharum) What to say about the quintessential fall tree? What kid hasn't collected these vibrant red, orange and gold leaves for a school project?
Oak, Red (Quercus rubra) Well before I was captivated by solemn oak silhouettes on the moors of Wuthering Heights and even before Katharine Hepburn mentioned "the mighty oak" in response to an inane Barbara Walters' question, oak trees have held special meaning for me.
In addition to the jack and Norway pines, oak trees were prevalent on the land of my grandparent's cabin in north central Minnesota where I, essentially, grew up. My grandfather hung a sturdy swing from a huge oak near the shore. My cousins and I tried to be careful while swinging–not only so we wouldn't get going crooked but so we wouldn't bang into the trunk and gouge the lichen-covered bark. We walked carefully when barefooted to avoid hard acorns. And for evening wiener and marshmallow roasts, we stoked the stone fireplace with chunks of oak.
No garden should be without at least one sturdy, oak tree.
