Twenty-seven years ago, I bought a house because I fell in love with a tree. The huge silver maple growing through the elevated deck attached to the back of the house captured my heart the moment I saw her. The screened treehouse beside the maple sealed the deal.
About forty feet from the ground, the tree’s trunk splits into two large stems, creating a V-shape: open arms reaching skyward to feel the warmth of the sun. Sadly, at 100-plus years old, she is not doing well. Midtown Atlanta’s dense urban environment and climate change have taken their toll. Boutee Tree has kept excellent watch over her through the years. Now, they say it’s time to let her go. I’m not coping well with this news, despite expecting it.
Visible through the French doors that connect my kitchen to the deck, my maple has been a constant companion: a daily comfort through the seasons and the years. Twice, as her girth grew, I expanded the hole in the deck that is her portal to the sky. My granddogs – both squirrel experts – excitedly watch the bushy-tailed rodents that race up and down her trunk; several live in a large hole in the tree: a deep cavity that the arborists say is rotting.
Once, I stood on the deck on a summer evening below a branch where a barred owl perched, surveying his realm. His steadfast, minutes-long gaze down at me was both exhilarating and unnerving. My maple has kept my deck shady and the treehouse cool. She has presided as a co-host for alfresco dinners and brightened the night when wrapped with holiday lights. How can I let her go? How will I replace her gifts?
I grew up spoiled in our city of trees and am forever surprised when I travel to places without a green canopy to provide shade and cooler temperatures, purify the air, slow storm runoff, support abundant wildlife, and relieve daily stress. A recent trip to largely treeless Venice, Italy during a severe heat wave shocked me into the realization that Atlanta simply cannot afford to lose its mature trees; they are essential infrastructure for a safe, healthy city.
Documented loss
Tree loss does not have to be inevitable in a growing urban area–yet that is exactly what has been happening in Atlanta for years, due to failed leadership through multiple city administrations. If Atlanta is serious about its goal of achieving a 50 percent tree canopy, somebody needs to tell our elected officials that they’re headed in the wrong direction. Recently, Georgia Tech did just that, but was anybody listening? Do they care? Not really, it appears, from the lack of a meaningful response.
Between 2008 and 2023, the city lost an average of 150 acres of urban forest each year, according to an assessment recently released by Georgia Tech’s Center for Urban Resilience and Analytics. Nearly 48 percent of city land was covered by trees in 2008; fifteen years later, just 45.7 percent remained under tree cover. Study author Tony Giarrusso told city council members that the loss is likely even greater. The data he used is now three years old. Additionally, properties clear-cut for development during the Great Recession, but not yet developed, host saplings that will eventually be removed; in the recent assessment, they were counted as part of the canopy.
Seventy-two percent of the city’s existing canopy is on private land. In recent years, multi-family projects have been responsible for most of the tree loss. Through a thousand cuts, literally, Atlanta’s civic leaders are allowing the destruction of an immensely valuable asset: one of the most effective tools available free of charge to deal with heat waves, floods, and polluted air.
Regulation and forest preservation
Reaching the city’s 50 percent canopy goal demands a serious commitment to regulation and preservation. The25-year-old city tree ordinance is battered and beaten–as are the stakeholders who have worked tirelessly for years to update it. Last year, when improvement seemed near, organized developers–Greater Atlanta Home Builders Association and Council for Quality Growth–convinced city officials to halt forward movement, again.
The ordinance was marginally strengthened last year, but advocates say it’s still too cheap to cut down a tree and required replanting fails too often. The city has refused to set a preservation standard for mature trees, nor is it adding enough new trees to offset losses. More of the city’s existing canopy must be preserved now through acquisition. The Conservation Fund, a land-buying partner that helps preserve natural areas in the city, says there are many forested tracts available.
Mayor Andre Dickens could use his prominent position to demand that tree stakeholders meet and negotiate until they reach agreement, by a date certain, on an ordinance that actually protects trees. I’ve been in a number of similarly structured environmental mediations over the successful years. The mayor and civic leaders could also mount an aggressive campaign to work with private philanthropy to buy more forested tracts. Not doing so is a choice.
Other cities have prioritized their trees. In 2015, Georgia Tech’s Urban Climate Lab conducted a heat risk assessment for Louisville, Kentucky—one of the fastest-growing and most intense urban heat islands in the country. They documented an “alarming” loss of trees. Civic leaders shifted into high gear. In efforts that were intentional and strategic, they strengthened tree protection ordinances, preserved existing canopy, and planted tens of thousands of trees. They achieved a remarkable increase of 1 percent in the city’s tree canopy in eight years.
As summer fades, I’m spending more time on my deck, silently thanking my silver maple for her century of service and watching her leaves dance in the wind.
