Tree Cop

A slight young woman enters the shadow of the looming magnolia tree on Milam Street. Her name is Carla Wyatt, and she’s officially earning her doctorate in environmental toxicology at Texas Southern University.

But at this moment, she’s the tree cop.

“I’ve been called the pistol-packing mama, guard dog, tree girl,” lists Wyatt after she has snaked a measuring tape around the trunk to check the diameter of the magnolia, which stands about 20 feet tall. “But it’s all for the better of the environment.”

Wyatt works as coordinator for TreeScape, a joint effort between The Park People, Trees for Houston and Scenic Houston, whose main purpose is to protect existing trees and plant new ones throughout the city.

The reason Wyatt was checking out Milam’s magnolia involves a bit of disclosure. The stately tree — a piece of beauty in this construction-riddled urban landscape — has been a longtime favorite of Press staffers. So there was some concern when jackhammers and a backhoe from a Metro construction project left several of its fragile roots completely exposed. Chunks of dug-up sidewalk surrounded the tree, which was already beginning to wilt. A call to Trees for Houston delivered Wyatt in minutes.

“The contractors dropped the ball by leaving all this stuff here,” says Wyatt, motioning to the mess. “This rubbish shouldn’t be here, because it disrupts the environment.”

But Wyatt is quick to explain that even though the tree looks depressed, Metro is in fact trying to improve its home on Milam by digging up the sidewalk and expanding its root space.

“All in all, the project is trying to benefit the tree, to broaden the green space,” she explains.

Wyatt, who majored in biology at TSU, has worked for TreeScape for nearly three years. She estimates she gets from one to ten calls a day directing her to trees that need her vigilance. Sometimes shady developers will try to tear down a tree in the middle of the night, so it’s important that Wyatt document everything with photographs; there are city ordinances that can punish tree abusers.

“I could be on my way to the movies and I see something that’s not right, so I stop and whip out my camera,” she admits.

Wyatt says Metro has been one of the best partners to work with, mainly because of Mike Williams. The agency’s landscape architect and urban designer has been quick to respond to her requests.

“Mike is really, really reactive to my phone calls,” says Wyatt. “I need him on my team.”

As for Williams, he says the look of the downtown projects often gives the wrong impression. In many cases, a dug-up sidewalk means a tree is having its root space increased from nine square feet up to 120 square feet. That’s because the new sidewalks will leave more exposed area at the bases of the trunks. Williams estimates more than 1,100 trees had their living quarters upgraded on the light rail project alone.

“When we first got started, some contractors would get a little wild on us, but they know Metro is serious about protecting these trees,” says Williams. “It’s good we’ve got someone like Carlait’s wonderful having that extra set of eyes.”

Wyatt relishes the tiny victories. Last summer she saved the largest crape myrtle in Harris County, a 30-foot tree that had lived on Plantation Drive in Memorial Forest for more than 50 years. Trucks working on a city storm sewer project were harming the tree with their exhaust. After Wyatt got in touch with the right officials, the contractors used special equipment to direct the exhaust elsewhere.

It’s not always easy work, though. Wyatt admits she’s been yelled at by people who think her job isn’t important. She’s also encountered people who love trees even more than she does — they’ve chained themselves to the trunk or sprinkled rose petals around the base in protest.

“You have some people who are really that passionate,” she says. “They care for their trees like they care for their children.”

Which brings us back to the Milam magnolia, which had several lower limbs torn by construction machinery. Within minutes of Wyatt’s visit, construction crew members were busy dumping dark topsoil on top of its roots and clearing out the broken-up slabs of concrete. Wyatt says there was no significant damage done to the tree, which is the whole point of her work.

“I love my job, it’s wonderful,” says Wyatt. “We have one planet. If we didn’t protect where we live, who will?”