The european beech
Natalie Secen, Halifax Tree Project
2020-08-10
While the American beech is without a doubt my favourite deciduous tree, I have come to appreciate the European beech (almost) just as much for two main reasons. So, when it came time to choosing which species I wanted to write about for this blog series, I quickly scooped up the European beech with hope that I could encourage others to “see the light” as I have. Have I piqued your interest yet?!
Firstly, beech bark disease is causing significant destruction in Nova Scotia’s American beech population, and when it comes to saving these trees, things get tricky (more on this later). The European beech possesses many of the same characteristics that I have always loved about the American beech, encouraging me to widen the scope of my preference as our native American beech population declines. Secondly, the European beech happens to have a relatively higher tolerance of urban conditions. As you probably guessed, it’s a non-native species. And while I am all for encouraging the flourishment of our native species, I also believe that it’s in our best interest to be adaptable in order to build a robust urban forest. So, if the European beech is growing successfully in the streets of Halifax, I say let it grow (note that there is a difference between the terms “non-native” and “invasive,” the European beech not possessing traits of the latter)!
For the full sensory experience of enjoying a beech tree, I encourage you to seek one out in person (the European beech in the Halifax Public Gardens is a good place to start)! For now, I will try to do it justice in this blog. The bark of a beech is one of a kind. Smooth like the skin of an elephant, and a lovely canvas for things like moss and lichen. For these reasons, to me, the beech tree almost seems like it is extra alive.
Its leaves have very distinct lateral veins (see photo below) – one extending to each tooth with no further branching, and in contrast to this rigidity are wavy, round toothed margins. Almost as if to match to the long, bold veins, the buds are easily distinguishable given their long, sharp and slender shape. Trees don’t produce fruit until they reach the approximate age of 40, but when they do, they are a popular meal choice amongst birds, bears, and squirrels. To humans, they aren’t quite as popular as walnuts or hazelnuts because of their bitter tannins (however, they were quite popular during times of hunters and gatherers).
Perhaps you’ve noticed that while the beech trees in and around Halifax share the above-mentioned qualities, there’s variation elsewhere, such as in its leaf colour and branch characteristics. Enter the concept of a cultivar, where a tree is grown for certain desired traits. All those different types of delicious apples that you pick up at the grocery store or farmer’s market (Granny Smith, Red Delicious, etc.) are cultivars of Malus pumila, the common apple. Sometimes, these characteristics begin as mutations. A few common cultivars of European beech in Halifax are those with purple leaves, and/or drooping branches. To indicate that a tree is a cultivar in its scientific name, one uses quotations in regular font – for example, a weeping beech is written as Fagus sylvatica ‘Pendula.’ There’s an example of this cultivar on Almon Street just off of Oxford St (pictured, right).
While most prominent in American beech forest stands, I couldn’t write this blog without elaborating on beech bark disease (plus, I promised I would earlier on)! The disease (pictured below) is caused by the combination of an exotic fungus (Nectria faginata) and a small exotic insect called beech scale (Cryptococcus fagisuga). The beech scale insect was introduced from Europe on an ornamental European beech in Halifax’s Public Gardens back in 1890 and has since spread west into Ontario (while less susceptible to beech bark disease than the American beech, infection on European beech is still possible). The fungus ran on a similar timeline. First, the insect feeds on the tree sap using its piercing and sucking mouthparts, and then the fungus moves in to cause the real damage. The resulting cankers disrupt nutrient transport, act as an entry point for other pests and diseases, and when the cankers coalesce the tree is structurally compromised potentially leading to what is known as “beech snap.” Once a tree is infected with by the fungal pathogen it cannot be treated, and as you can see in the photo, these cankers are an eye sore and sure take away the bark’s resemblance to elephant skin.
It makes me sad to think about the damage caused by this insect-fungus complex and question the praise I gave earlier to planting non-native trees. After all, bringing in a European beech is what kicked off the killing of our native American beech population, so is this worth exploring new species that are potentially better adapted to the shifting hardiness zones? It’s a tough question, but at least our society now has a higher level of awareness when it comes to invasive species transport. If just the seeds of European beech were transported back then, we might be in a different situation today. In your own endeavors, I encourage you to be mindful of not transporting firewood. This is a dangerously easy way move invasive species around, especially because beech is commonly used in wood burning given its high density. It’s hard, strong, and heavy. For this same reason, it’s a popular choice for furniture making. In fact, IKEA uses beech wood for a lot of its wooden furniture!
There are multiple noteworthy specimens on the Halifax peninsula, in addition to what you’ll find in the Public Gardens. The beautiful full canopy and open growth structure of the beech on Pryor Street makes it my personal favourite (photo below, left). With a strong central leader and good branch unions, this tree is well prepared to live a very long life. My second favourite (photo below, right), a beech at the intersection of Edinburgh and Almon, is another jaw dropper that stands out from its peers!
