I’m writing this on Arbor Day in Georgia, the third Friday in February. On this early spring day, I’m celebrating the magnificent trees in my Intown neighborhood, as well as the plantings that will take place in Atlanta and elsewhere. Small and large hands will smooth fresh soil around saplings and water their roots with the hope of a greener, cooler tomorrow.
In retirement, I’ve been studying trees more attentively. I love the woods in winter after the flow of sap in deciduous species has slowed and leaves have lost their energy and fallen to the ground. Trunks, large limbs, and branches that are largely hidden in summer’s green abundance are on display in all their architectural glory: the bared canopy of oaks, beeches, hickories, native magnolias, and sycamores. The irregular and expressive lines of trunks and branches never fail to stimulate my eyes and mind in ways that man’s angular shapes and straight lines cannot.
My favorite trees are sycamores and beeches. While many dislike the messiness of sycamores—shedding bark, raining seed pods, and huge, slow-to-decompose leaves—I am in awe of these beauties. In the winter, the pure white upper trunks and branches of sycamores present spectacular silhouettes against blue or gray skies. My eyes scan wooded areas, seeking their dramatic, white arms that reach for the sky in Hallelujah poses. Like me, sycamores love to have wet “feet,” and thrive along rivers and in creek ravines. How could I not love them?
Disappearing Trees
Most people would agree that mature trees add beauty to their surroundings and enhance property values. Less well-known are other essential services that trees provide at no economic cost. As more frequent and severe heat waves increase with climate change, trees can lower urban temperatures by an impressive ten degrees—and literally save lives. Georgia Tech professor Brian Stone Jr. says: “Trees are, quite simply, the most effective strategy we have to guard against heat in cities.”
Trees can also help mitigate the effects of intense storms, like the shocking “rain bomb” that deluged downtown Atlanta last fall, flooding streets and buildings with fast-moving water. Their leaf canopies slow the speed of falling water and reduce soil erosion caused by flooding storms; they also provide ample surfaces where rainwater lands and evaporates. Tree roots take up water and promote ground infiltration.
Not many years ago, Atlanta’s tree canopy covered 49 percent of its land area; today, that number has dropped to slightly more than 46 percent—clearly moving in the wrong direction from the city’s goal of 50 percent coverage. Another 190,000 new residents are predicted to move into the city by 2050, according to the Atlanta Regional Commission: a 38 percent increase over current levels. Unless we take action now, new development to support this influx of people (roads, rooftops, and parking lots) will bring even hotter temperatures and increased storm runoff and flooding.
Why are we witnessing the slow, but steady, disappearance of such an important natural asset: Atlanta’s tree canopy?
Failed Protection Measures
More than twenty years ago, the Atlanta City Council adopted an ordinance to protect the city’s trees. At that time, climate change was barely a blip on the horizon for most civic leaders. Fast forward to today: clearly, the climate is changing. Protecting and enhancing our urban forest will make our city more resilient. A healthy, more robust tree canopy will help save lives and property from heat waves and dangerous flooding.
As has been acknowledged by virtually all stakeholders—city officials, developers, and tree and housing affordability advocates—the existing tree ordinance is unworkable. At a minimum, it must be amended and more funding provided for the city’s tree programs. Under the current system, “replacement” saplings are allowed as recompense for the removal of mature trees. Of course, these small trees cannot provide the cooling and flood mitigation services of larger species—and won’t be able to do so for decades, even a lifetime.
For the past decade, city decision-makers have squandered multiple attempts to strengthen Atlanta’s tree ordinance through various stakeholder initiatives. Most developers, it seems, are fine with the status quo: ridiculously low tree recompense fees, relatively easy permitting, and minimal enforcement due to insufficient city staffing; they have no incentive to agree to amendments. Tree advocates are unable to agree among themselves on the best ways to improve tree programs. Housing affordability advocates say some ordinance provisions are harmful to their goals.
Most importantly, no civic leaders or elected officials have stepped forward to make the tree issue their own and a priority. As community activist Saul Alinsky said: “No issue can be negotiated unless you first have the clout to compel negotiations.” I learned this lesson many times during my years advocating for the Chattahoochee River.
New Initiative
The city’s tree problems have received renewed attention under Mayor Andre Dickens. Several modest amendments to the tree ordinance were implemented last year. While helpful, they didn’t address the most controversial subjects: protecting existing trees, setting higher recompense fees, limiting land disturbance outside building footprints, and meeting affordable housing needs.
In the fall, the city hired Michael Elliott, a Georgia Tech professor with decades of experience in mediating complex city disputes. He has conducted dozens of interviews and will lead group sessions over the next four months. As the process expert, Elliott will attempt to bring the stakeholders to agreement on practical and effective ways to improve Atlanta’s tree programs, while allowing development.
Some are optimistic about this new initiative; others are highly skeptical that any progress will be made unless an influential leader or leaders step forward to function as a “forcing factor” and compel tree negotiations. Think: Shirley Franklin and sewers. Mayor Dickens, will you be our tree leader?