Tree selector

Where Keith starts a shade conversation, and the first of two: "When somebody wants a shade tree and they ask me for a recommendation, I'll tell them that I always start with this generic conversation slash recommendation. Mexican sycamore and cedar elm."

If the concern is pure performance — getting shade back as soon as possible — this is the one. "The only super fast growing tree that's legitimately a good tree." Most fast trees check the wrong boxes: surface roots, short lifespan, structural integrity problems, high maintenance. This one does not.

One caveat, and it is siting rather than species: it pushes beyond normal size for its class, so keep it further from infrastructure than you would keep the others.

Suburban suitability is a nuisance-and-fit argument here, not a hardiness one. It is a good tree in the right place.

Two different trees are sold under this one name, and which one you get changes what you bought. The escarpment live oak is the long-lived native — "the real jewels in my mind" — and it is rare in nurseries. The coastal live oak is what almost everyone plants, because it grows faster and tree farms make more money on it. "Not bad trees," but not the same tree.

The coastal one is notorious for surface roots, and it needs much more structural pruning while it is young or it develops included bark. That is a maintenance commitment, and it is the kind of thing nobody mentions at the point of sale.

It is the one real growth-rate outlier: "anything you plant from a nursery is gonna have a decently good growth rate except for the live oak." Worth knowing before you buy one for shade.

"A normal recommendation and very hardy as a young tree."

It is also the rescue species: "If we have a customer with a planting site where the trees we plant are just not taking, we can generally flip to a Monterrey oak and it'll take." That is the honest answer to "I have killed two trees in that spot."

One of the two trees Keith recommends in oak-wilt-sensitive neighborhoods — and he is candid about why: "that's PR, not a reflection of my professional opinion." It is a genuinely good tree either way.

"Also better suited for river bottom, but at least not a tap root tree." The nursery-stock objection that follows bur oak around does not attach to it.

That is one strike off one tree, though, and not a claim that chinquapin therefore transplants beautifully. Where it goes in the yard still decides whether it works.

The other tree Keith recommends in oak-wilt-sensitive neighborhoods.

His position, and both halves of it travel: "for that, I don't love it. I don't think it's not great… When clients ask for them, I tell them it's a good tree — and if they want it, I'm not steering them away from it."

Fall colour is the thing people buy it for, and here it is not reliable. Hot dry summers give heat scorch and the leaves just turn brown and drop; a mild summer or decent rain gives a beautiful display. The weather months earlier decides it, and the Shumard — the red oak most commonly planted here — typically does not colour in his experience.

Owning one: it tends to dominate the landscape, it is dense enough to block a lot of light, and near the house it is an ongoing maintenance commitment.

"Red oak" is a group, not a species — Spanish or Texas red oak, Southern red oak, blackjack, Shumard. Different trees, and worth pinning down which one you are being sold.

It is the species most likely to arrive as out-of-region nursery stock, which looks identical at the lot and then goes chlorotic and never takes. Two questions worth asking of any tree, and especially this one: what is the seed source, and where was it grown?

The second half of Keith's standard shade opener, with his own concession attached: "we are now splitting hairs… there are a number of adapted or native trees with green leaves and brown bark that all do kind of the same job."

The case for it is about ownership rather than biology: upright, a small trunk diameter for the canopy it carries, less pollen, papery seed wings that disappear instead of acorns staining sidewalks and fouling pools, and papery leaves that break down in one mow. "One of the cleaner trees" in an urban or suburban yard.

His verdict on it is short: "no reservations." Drought and flood both — "wet feet, dry feet" — and it excels in groupings or forest-style plantings.

The rose analogy is his: "Most people understand there are hundreds of varieties of roses, and every grower has their own. Crepe myrtles are the same thing — some max out at two feet, some grow to forty. The point is to figure out what we're trying to do."

Which is why the size decision is the whole decision: "I can pick one that's gonna grow to the right height and stay that height." Choose the mature size correctly and you never need to top it.

The varieties he plants most — never an exhaustive list, because "a lot of times I'm choosing from what's available at the nurseries": Natchez, white, single or multi-stem. Tuscarora, pinkish, single or multi-stem. Muskogee, purple, multi-stem only. Basham's Party Pink, moderate. Red is often only available in mid-height varieties, so the colour you want can decide the size you get.

For screening, the deciding question is about you rather than the plant: how much do you actually use the yard in winter? "If they're not gonna be hanging out in their yard in the winter… it doesn't really matter if the privacy is degraded a little bit."

And it is shade you buy rather than grow: a crepe myrtle set close to a patio gives instant protection from the southwest sun. If you want shade now, a small tree beside the patio may serve you better than a big tree in the middle of the yard.

It produces "knees", and it is more likely to than the Montezuma.

It is the only cypress native to Central Texas, and it is a deciduous conifer — the needles drop.

The bald cypress is the native one, and its planting site must be located near a creek or spring to survive into maturity. An irrigation system will not and can not replace a creek. Bald planted for water front locations and montezuma otherwise.

The bald cypress is the native one, and its planting site must be located near a creek or spring to survive into maturity.

The everywhere-else half of the pair: bald cypress for waterfront locations, Montezuma otherwise.

In his own words: "nearly identical to the bald cypress in appearance. It is less likely to produce 'knees', it holds foliage longer into fall and winter, it has a faster growth rate and darker green foliage. The Montezuma cypress might be a better tree to plant in an urban landscape than the bald cypress — although I hate to recommend a non-native over a native tree."

What "self pruning" actually means, because cold it sounds like a feature: pecans sometimes do not even need a storm — a wet spring and a good load of pecans, and they will self-prune on their own.

Keith's placement for it is orchard planting. That is a different conversation from a shade tree in a yard, and if that is what you are after, tell us and we will start there instead.

Two different trees are sold under this one name, and which one you get changes what you bought. The escarpment live oak is the long-lived native — "the real jewels in my mind" — and it is rare in nurseries. The coastal live oak is what almost everyone plants, because it grows faster and tree farms make more money on it. "Not bad trees," but not the same tree.

The coastal one is notorious for surface roots, and it needs much more structural pruning while it is young or it develops included bark. That is a maintenance commitment, and it is the kind of thing nobody mentions at the point of sale.

It is the one real growth-rate outlier: "anything you plant from a nursery is gonna have a decently good growth rate except for the live oak." Worth knowing before you buy one for shade.

"A normal recommendation and very hardy as a young tree."

It is also the rescue species: "If we have a customer with a planting site where the trees we plant are just not taking, we can generally flip to a Monterrey oak and it'll take." That is the honest answer to "I have killed two trees in that spot."

One of the two trees Keith recommends in oak-wilt-sensitive neighborhoods — and he is candid about why: "that's PR, not a reflection of my professional opinion." It is a genuinely good tree either way.

The rose analogy is his: "Most people understand there are hundreds of varieties of roses, and every grower has their own. Crepe myrtles are the same thing — some max out at two feet, some grow to forty. The point is to figure out what we're trying to do."

Which is why the size decision is the whole decision: "I can pick one that's gonna grow to the right height and stay that height." Choose the mature size correctly and you never need to top it.

The varieties he plants most — never an exhaustive list, because "a lot of times I'm choosing from what's available at the nurseries": Natchez, white, single or multi-stem. Tuscarora, pinkish, single or multi-stem. Muskogee, purple, multi-stem only. Basham's Party Pink, moderate. Red is often only available in mid-height varieties, so the colour you want can decide the size you get.

For screening, the deciding question is about you rather than the plant: how much do you actually use the yard in winter? "If they're not gonna be hanging out in their yard in the winter… it doesn't really matter if the privacy is degraded a little bit."

And it is shade you buy rather than grow: a crepe myrtle set close to a patio gives instant protection from the southwest sun. If you want shade now, a small tree beside the patio may serve you better than a big tree in the middle of the yard.

"One of my favorite evergreen trees for the Austin / central Texas area — in my experience it is more reliable in the urban landscape than most of the other conifers."

It wants more sun and heat than the other screening conifers, and it is drainage-sensitive.

"A more expensive variant" — the same screening job as the other conifers at a higher price, and it does not live as long as an Arizona cypress. More expensive and shorter-lived is not something anyone selling you one is likely to mention.

His own siting warning: it is narrow and columnar in growth form, but in its native environment it grows far taller than that shape leads people to expect. That matters when one is planted close to the house for accent — plant it too close and the tree has to be removed prematurely.

It wants protection from late afternoon sun — "doesn't have to have it, but appreciates it" — and it wants good drainage. Wet feet are a real problem for it.

The catch a privacy buyer needs to hear: at mature size it can lose its lower limbs to shade, which is the exact height privacy gets judged at. Low-angle morning or afternoon light at the base is what preserves them. That is a siting variable, not a defect in the species.

Its real problem is perception. People confuse it with the ash juniper they blame for cedar fever, and they look similar enough that the confusion sticks. Different tree.

Much slower growing than the rest of the ornamentals, heat-hardy, and the one instruction that matters: do not overwater it.

Keith rates it "great for long-term durability."

The reliability pick for screening: "Great choices for reliability" — hardy across a wide range of conditions.

It is the columnar one. Nellie Stevens, Burford and Eagleston are basically the same plant as each other; this is not one of the three.

Hedge if you prune it, small tree if you let it go.

On a dry site the first symptom is interior foliage turning yellow and dropping — an early warning you can actually see from the back door.

He downgrades it honestly: "not a super ornamental plant."

The rose analogy is his: "Most people understand there are hundreds of varieties of roses, and every grower has their own. Crepe myrtles are the same thing — some max out at two feet, some grow to forty. The point is to figure out what we're trying to do."

Which is why the size decision is the whole decision: "I can pick one that's gonna grow to the right height and stay that height." Choose the mature size correctly and you never need to top it.

The varieties he plants most — never an exhaustive list, because "a lot of times I'm choosing from what's available at the nurseries": Natchez, white, single or multi-stem. Tuscarora, pinkish, single or multi-stem. Muskogee, purple, multi-stem only. Basham's Party Pink, moderate. Red is often only available in mid-height varieties, so the colour you want can decide the size you get.

For screening, the deciding question is about you rather than the plant: how much do you actually use the yard in winter? "If they're not gonna be hanging out in their yard in the winter… it doesn't really matter if the privacy is degraded a little bit."

And it is shade you buy rather than grow: a crepe myrtle set close to a patio gives instant protection from the southwest sun. If you want shade now, a small tree beside the patio may serve you better than a big tree in the middle of the yard.

Much slower growing than the rest of the ornamentals, heat-hardy, and the one instruction that matters: do not overwater it.

Keith rates it "great for long-term durability."

Many varieties; pick on flower colour and leaf shape. Readily available, which is not true of everything in this column.

There is more than one redbud, and which one suits a given yard is partly an irrigation question. That gets settled on the visit rather than from a form.

The ornamental frame, and redbud is its archetype: "It's not a three-hundred-year-lifespan live oak. It's a twenty-year redbud. It's gonna look great for a while. You're gonna cut it down. It's not gonna be dangerous or hazardous. You can regrow a new one quickly." Short life, harmless failure, fast replacement — all three together are the point.

Riparian by nature — it wants a creek. Irrigation overcomes that.

The wildcard of the column. It has few named varieties, so stock is usually seed-grown and shape and flower colour vary from tree to tree. A named cultivar is predictable; seed-grown is a lottery.

It sits at the top of the ornamental range on cost, and the reason is the honest one: "Expensive because it's scarce, not because it's premium." Hard to source.

"A personal favorite. Very hardy" — but hard to find. Availability is a real constraint on this one, not a footnote.

Sun for a Japanese maple is a time-of-day rule, not a quantity rule. The ideal is full sun through the morning and the first half of the day, then afternoon protection. If the only direct sun a spot gets is midday or late afternoon, a little direct sun beats none — but the cost is real: those trees are susceptible to sunscald in the worst summers.

Emperor and Bloodgood are proven here, and lace leaf is the one for shade. Shishigashira and Coral Bark are hard to find at commercial planting size — which is a sourcing problem rather than a growing one.

"A personal favorite" — and it needs full sun. Without it you get no flowers, which he calls "kind of a waste."