I bought these two Japanese maple trees before I opened my studio. My original intent was to plant them in the front planting strip right by the front door. However, the landlord let me know that I couldn't plant anything in the front that wasn't theirs, as they wanted to keep the boxwood unified with the rest of the complex. That made sense, so I kept them in planters side by side at the front door, making sure they were small enough not to block the walkway.
But that same month, the landlord started a major renovation project for the entire complex, which included renewing all the exterior painting and replacing the roof. I was instructed to move the plants to the back garden behind my studio.
I moved them there in their planters, but the combination of the ongoing renovation work and an unusual burst of dry heat that season severely stressed the trees. All of their leaves scorched, and I was convinced they were dead.
In an attempt to save them, I took them out of their planters and planted them directly into the ground, watering them carefully. I didn't expect to see any new leaves until next spring, after winter was over.
But now it is August, and I have started to notice new leaves coming back in. They are small and sparse, but they are definitely returning.
The trees were distressed, not diseased. Nothing was treated — conditions were restored, and the growth, when it came, was their own work. Development is an accumulation. It cannot be forced, only given its conditions. We cannot change the weather. We can nourish the tree.
Salutogenesis, the origin of health, challenges that view. It starts at the conditions around us. Ecological regulation does not exclusively belong to the large scale; we do have the ability to adjust our immediate environment. It starts with a change of perspective and applicable knowledge.



