For a kid from slushy Southern Ontario, sunny California seemed like the promised land, and when I finally arrived there in 1985, it didn’t disappoint. Palm trees lined the highways, the blue Pacific stretched out forever, and the majestic, mysterious and ancient redwoods covered the mountains in Santa Cruz County, where I eventually made my home. In my wildest childhood dreams, I never saw myself living in a forest dominated by these iconic behemoths, but somehow, that’s what happened, and now I’ve been living in a redwood forest for a little over 20 years.
Redwood trees have to be big and strong to survive the unpredictable conditions of their mountainous coastal habitat, which is prone to natural disasters. Since arriving in coastal California, I’ve seen significant property damage from gale-force winds, wildfires, excessive rainfall, lightning strikes — even a major earthquake — and the trees simply shrug off these disasters.
In more serene times, redwood trees — which often grow in clumps surrounding a mother tree (known locally as fairy circles) — form natural cathedrals. Redwoods are huge and awesome, but they can also be dangerous. Here’s what I’ve learned by living among them.
Watch Out Below!
Redwoods form massive trunks as they grow to heights of several hundred feet, and the branches that spring from these trunks are also massive. And, yes, they do break off and fall. If one hits a person falling from a height over 100 feet, it can easily be fatal, which is why locals call these branches widowmakers.
The tops of redwood trees can also break off and fall during high-wind events. We lost power and were stranded for days when a treetop fell onto a power line during a storm, snapping the power pole in two and sending it across the driveway. Consider the damage an entire tree can do to a house if it falls.
The trees are so tall that one growing 100 feet away is a potential hazard. During a series of storms a few years back, a redwood fell through the roof of a neighbor’s house and into the living room while he, fortunately, was in the bedroom.
Understanding the potential for damage from falling trees and branches has necessitated certain precautions on our property. Cars need to be parked out in the open, and people stay inside during high-wind events. We had to build a roof over our well pump because if a branch fell on it, we’d be out of water.
Redwoods Are Protected
That’s a good thing, right? Regulations that prohibit the removal of old-growth trees and require permits for removing younger ones save the forests for future generations. That’s true, but they also prevent property owners from managing their own forests. When a forest official inspected our property to sign off on a zone change, he recommended thinning the redwood clumps to promote healthier growth. Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done.
In Santa Cruz County, Coastal Redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens) are considered heritage trees, and to remove one, you need to initiate a process that involves assessments by arborists and strict permit conditions, and you need to give public notice. This can all get expensive and time-consuming, and considering what a major job it is to take one down even if you successfully obtain a permit, it’s a daunting proposal. So the redwoods on our property continue to crowd each other out and drop branches that have to be collected and burned every year during burn season.
The Redwood Environment
Redwoods form a towering canopy that shades everything underneath it, and that can be both a plus and a minus. On the plus side, it makes for a cooler environment in the summer, and on the flip side, it makes things downright cold in winter. Winters tend to be rainy, and the moisture lingers in the shade and creates mold problems.
A haven for wildlife
Wildlife doesn’t care about mold and thrives in the redwood forest’s sheltered environment. Our property hosts birds like owls, jays and woodpeckers; deer, bobcats, foxes, coyotes, squirrels and what seems to be a million mice, which we catch in live traps and release in the state park three miles away. We also get occasional visits from mountain lions (cougars). They prey on house cats, which have to be careful. Of the nine that have lived here over the years, only one has been canny enough to survive.
I once came face to face with a large cougar. It snarled at me from about 20 feet away, but luckily, I was by the door, so I just went inside. It hung around, though, and later had to be chased away. My intrepid landmate soaked it with a garden hose, which turned out to be pretty effective.
Resistance to wildfires
The wildfire that devastated our mountain community in 2020 spread mostly among the tan oaks and smaller trees, brush and bushes that grow in the clearings. Redwoods also burned, of course, but they didn’t necessarily die; many of the ones that were blackened when the fire was extinguished have sprouted new growth six years later.
The fire may have actually helped the trees reproduce, because their cones open more readily after fire exposure, but research shows that most new growth came from the bases of existing trees. When sprouts get established, they grow surprisingly quickly and with impressive vitality.
A few years ago, I had to cut a young tree that was blocking our view (it was too small to be protected as a heritage tree). The stump quickly turned into a large bush, and in three short years, a new tree had grown to about 10 feet tall. That had to go, too, and now a new one has sprouted.
What I’ve Learned
To anyone who is attracted by the romance of living in the quiet chaos of a redwood forest, I say go for it. It’s a unique and rare environment. Just be sure to keep your head covered and to stay out of the way when the wind blows.
The post I’ve Lived in the Redwoods for 20 Years — Here’s What the Forest Taught Me appeared first on Family Handyman.
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