Friends of Public Gardens: We are a democracy of trees and dirt – The Boston Globe

Earlier this month, a violent spring storm knocked down a 65-year-old white willow tree in the Public Gardens. It lies in the shallow waters of the lagoon, where the famous swan boats glide, its long branches splayed out like a drowned creature, its trunk splitting on the wet ground. The public response was swift and painful. Destroyed! And heartbroken! people wrote on social media. One netizen wrote that it is now 9:47 am. Why do I have feelings for a tree?

Because trees are living repositories of time, health, and beauty, gifts are given generously to them indiscriminately. “We have a reciprocal bond with our plant relatives here,” said Liz Vizza, president of the nonprofit Friends of Public Gardens. People instinctively feel that it is a part of them, and when a tree falls, a part of them falls with it.

Viza and friends are developing succession plans for about 1,700 trees in the three parks the organization manages: the Public Garden, Boston Common and the Commonwealth Avenue Mall (from Arlington Street to Kenmore Square). As the climate becomes wetter and storms intensify, the beloved lagoon willow is especially vulnerable.

In fact, the twin demands of climate change and environmental justice are what drives Vizza, who recently announced her retirement after 15 years of helping the organization grow from its tweedy beginnings to the powerful advocate it is today. Friends began in 1970, the year Earth Day was first celebrated, when a volunteer group of Beacon Hill residents came together to address vandalism and widespread neglect at the Public Garden and Boston Common. Since then, the nonprofit has expanded to include more jewelry from the Frederick Law Olmsteds Emerald Necklace. The budget of $3.3 million is modest, but still six times what it was when Vizza was founded, and the company has grown to 11 full-time employees. In 2020, Viza established a formal public-private relationship with the city as Friends of Friendship for the first time.

The Friends take care not only of the park’s flowers and trees, but also of monuments, lighting, gates and even tool sheds and temporary public baths, serving 140,000 people each season. In other words, the natural environment and the built environment. What draws people to the park is the vibrant landscape, Vizza explain. What makes it a specific place are its structural elements.

Again, in order to keep these large spaces thriving, municipal and private contributions are needed. Unfortunately, in the 50 years since the Quakers were founded, support in the public sphere has continued to erode. Even Boston Mayor Michelle Wu, who considers herself a tree protector and a champion of climate justice embodied in city parks, has been unable to spend 1% of the city’s $4.6 billion budget this year. Parks and Recreation Department. Viza said increasing funding to 1 percent would mean an additional $11 million for parks from Beacon Hill to Blue Hill, funds that could significantly delay maintenance.

The Friends’ political clout was tested in 2017 when developers proposed building a 775-foot tower in Winthrop Square that would cast a shadow over parts of the Commons, in violation of state law. The Friends’ staunch opposition was an important factor in the city’s eventual negotiations with developers for $56 million in funding for Boston Common and Franklin Park. The money helped fund master plans for both parks, and Friends of Viza developed a new shadow study tool that Viza hopes other advocates can use to fight against future encroachments.

Numerous studies show that green spaces in urban environments can improve public health, mitigate the heat island effect of dense cities amid global warming, and bring joy to millions of people. But in these fractured times, they serve a subtler but no less important purpose: to create a space where people of all backgrounds can escape the pixelated bubble and simply come together. People tend to forget that Olmsted was not only a landscape architect but also a social reformer, and the late 19th century, like today, was a time of rapid technological change and widening economic divides. Olmsted believed that parks promoted community focus on the common good. Or, as Viza said: We are a democracy among trees and soil.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, Wizza received a letter from a 6-year-old girl, appropriately named Willow, who witnessed a tree being removed from a common area . The tree went down, down, down, she wrote, with a dignity beyond her years. She kept a piece of wood as a souvenir. Without trees, she writes, we would feel lonely. Please plant some new ones.

Don’t worry, Willow. You have friends.

Rene Loos’ column appears frequently in the Globe.