Story and illustration by Doug Pifer

It sounded like springtime in December. Three dozen robins were singing and scolding on Christmas morning. They had gathered to feed on the fruits of Bradford pear, an ornamental tree that was the darling of landscapers thirty years ago and is now black listed by many gardeners and nature lovers.

Bradford Pear, Pyrus Calleryana, has an interesting history that began early in the 1950s when pear orchards in the Pacific Northwest were decimated by fire blight, a disease that kills fruit trees. Agricultural researchers discovered that the Callery pear, a thorny wild tree native to China, had rootstocks highly resistant to the disease. They grew imported Callery pear trees in nurseries where branches from choice pear varieties were grafted onto their roots. This eventually saved the commercial pear business from being wiped out by fire blight.

Meanwhile, one agricultural nursery grew a Callery pear tree that was sterile, had a beautiful shape, profuse flowers, and no thorns. This cultivar was named “Bradford” after its discoverer. Bradford pear became the ideal landscaping tree in the 1980s. It had a lovely, symmetrical shape. It thrived in a variety of climates and soils. It even tolerated the polluted air and compacted soil next to city streets, shopping centers, business parks and parking lots. Its shiny green leaves turned from yellow to orange to deep red and stayed on the tree until late fall. Its white blossoms made a spectacular show in early spring.

As they matured, Bradford pear trees became problematic. They were short lived. Their narrowly forking branches and soft wood were prone to breakage. A windy spell would 
frequently tear a large Bradford pear tree apart. The clouds of white blossoms, while stunning, smelled bad to some people. While the original Bradford variety was sterile, most trees you see now have been cross pollinated and bear small, pinkish brown “pears.” Most of these trees also have thorns. If you park your car under one of the fruiting trees after a night of heavy frost, you may return later to find your windshield smeared with their thawing, fallen fruit. Robins, starlings, and other fruit-eating birds gorge on these little pears during late fall. The birds, in turn, disburse the seeds.

Now Bradford, or rather Callery, pear trees grow everywhere.

Localities in several states have banned Bradford pear trees. People are urged to dig up and destroy Bradford pear trees on their property. Disposing of them isn’t easy. After a tree is cut, its roots must be destroyed before they send up new shoots everywhere. A tractor brush hogging a field can get thorn-slashed tires. Putting cut branches though a wood-chipper creates mulch which may contain pear seeds that sprout in the spring.

A wild Chinese pear tree once saved the American pear industry and then became a favorite landscaping tree. Now reverted to its Callery roots, it has become what many would call a scourge.

What comes to mind when you think about what makes the Shenandoah watershed so special? What images do you conjure when you imagine the river? That’s what dozens of people gathered to discuss at three meetings and three public forums this spring. Hosted by Shenandoah Riverkeeper Mark Frondorf and the Potomac Riverkeeper Network, the Green and Prosperous Shenandoah meetings took place in some of the places that are icons of the Valley: Front Royal, Harrisonburg, and Woodstock. The idea is to find common ground on a vision for potential futures for the river and its watershed. 

The Shenandoah couples with the long spine of the Blue Ridge Mountains to form the defining landscape feature over its length — each fork is about 100 miles long, and the main stem, which forms in Front Royal, is about 55 miles in length. It’s a popular recreation river that is often plagued by water quality issues like high fecal coliform counts. Over the last 15 years, the river has seen occasional fish kills, along with seasonal algae blooms that occur each summer.

It’s also the drinking water supply for Berryville and Charles Town, W.Va., and several other communities upstream. It passes through agricultural counties, industrial zones, many small towns, shopping centers, and huge shipping and warehouse facilities. Runoff and pollution from each of these sectors plays a role adding pollution loads to the river. Residential growth also is putting a strain on the Shenandoah’s ecology.

Stormwater runoff from towns and developments, and from the highways that serve them, is a major 
contributing factor.

Arriving at a shared idea for the future may have been the easy part. Not surprisingly, many people identified some cornerstones in their vision for the Shenandoah: a thriving farm economy and working landscapes, continued and expanded access recreation on the river, vibrant communities where people cherish their connections with the river, and a Shenandoah River that is much cleaner than it is today. The big questions folks grappled with centered around the steps, or milestones, that would bring about that future.

Participants included farmers, business owners, outfitters, conservation organizations, county and regional planners, and people who live along or just plain love the Shenandoah. They bandied around ideas that, if adopted or strengthened, would help restore the river and retain the rural character of the region.

Now volunteers are taking the feedback from all of the meetings to compile their ideas into that roadmap. “Potomac Riverkeeper Network is honored to host these sessions,” said Mark Frondorf, the Shenandoah Riverkeeper. “Ultimately creating a roadmap to a Green and Prosperous Future for the Shenandoah watershed will take many people from many backgrounds and interests.”

Frondorf says the volunteer team will work through the summer and unveil the roadmap in the fall.