Trees of McLaren Park: Canary Island Pine, Pinus canariensis

My mom tells me that she used to marvel at the Canary Island Pines that lined Beverly Boulevard in Whittier, California when she was a kid. My mom grew up in Whittier, first on the flat lands near the then-undammed San Gabriel River, then up the hill after the state claimed her family's property through eminent domain to build the 605 Freeway. Her dad ran cattle in Sycamore Canyon of the Whittier Hills and fought against a landfill that would have turned that wild canyon into a dump. That history is almost completely erased from that part of Southern California now, but on Google Maps you can still find the old bath tub my grandfather used to water his cattle, Sycamore Canyon is still untouched, and the Canary Island Pines still line Beverly Boulevard. Here, in a completely different part of the state, a beautiful Canary Island Pine grows in my neighbor's backyard and others grow in a couple different spots in McLaren Park. 

Canary Island Pine, Pinus canariensis

Shape: These pines, for the most part, have remarkably straight trunks and relatively narrow, arrow-shaped canopies. They look like giant, perfectly formed, loosely branched Christmas trees. The branches are just shy of horizontal and turn slightly upward at the end, a contrast to the soft, flopping foliage. Trees can get over a hundred feet tall and can live for hundreds of years. The oldest one I've read about is approximately 800 years old.

Foliage: Needles are 8"-9" long, appear in triads, and are a true green. Older needles turn rust-colored, but most of the foliage is a dark green. However, if the tree is injured or burned, the tree will sprout juvenile foliage, which is glaucous and has much shorter, singular needles. 

Two sets of needles.

The needles are a fascinating adaption to the environment in which the species evolved. The exceptional length of the needles and their magnficent droopiness makes for effective water collection from the air. The Canary Islands range from very wet to extremely dry, depending on side of the islands and protection from mountains within the islands. Pinus canariensis can tolerate the ample rain, but if it doesn't receive enough, it can irrigate itself from clouds or fog, as water condenses on and drips from its long needles, creating its own rain just under its canopy.

A McLaren Park Canary Island Pine making its own rain from the San Francisco fog.

Lambert, Aylmer Bourke. Pinus canariensis = Canary pine. 1837. Engraving. The New York Public Library Digital Collections, New York, digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/2f5f7070-c6cc-012f-6f97-58d385a7bc34.

Cone: Cones are hard to come by—none of them hang low on the tree. I can see a few long narrow cones hanging sparsely towards the top of some trees, but I've only found fallen immature cones a couple of times after squirrels have gone after them. I've never found a mature cone, though what I have read says they are chestnut brown and a little glossy. They sound pretty. The cones I have found are longer than they are wide, free from thorns, large "petaled," and tend to hang on the tree for a very long time. The cones from some individual trees of this species are serotinous, requiring either fire or hot, dry conditions to open, and some aren't.

Bark: The bark is a warm brown, very corky, rough, and thick. The trees evolved on the actively volcanic Canary Islands, and they are built for fire. The thick bark protects the sapwood, allowing the species to be one of the few pines that can resprout new foliage directly from their trunks after a fire, not just from their deep roots. In fact, this tree is one of the most (if not the most) fire resistant pine trees in existance.

History: According to Canarian Marian legend, Mary appeared in a Canary Island Pine in Teror, Gran Canaria, even before the Spanish arrived in 1360 and Catholicized the islands. In the tradition, the Virgin appeared in a pine, surrounded by three dragon trees, and water flowed perpetually from the base of the tree. Understanding how the tree itself collects water makes me think about this story in a different way.

Cardoso Granados, Anunciación Sr. "Aparición de Ntra. Sra. del Pino." Basilica de Nuestra Señora del Pino, 1934. "Convento de Clausura del Císter," Ayuntamiento de Teror, Photographed by Héctor Vera, https://teror.es/convento-del-cister/.

Uses: Vino de tea, a wine aged in barrels made of P. canariensis heartwood, is listed in the Ark of Taste. The Spanish Institute of Natural and Agricultural products created this sweet little animated infographic explaining what makes vino de tea special. It's hard for me to imagine a red wine flavored with pine, but that doesn't mean that I'm not exceptionally curious about it.

The heartwood traditionally has been used for building, as it straight, quite hard for a pine, clear, and long lasting. The needles used to be used to pack bananas for shipping from the islands.

Where to find in the park: There's a small grove of four Canary Island Pines (three clumped together and one more solitary) near the picnic tables by the westernmost tennis courts off John F. Shelley Drive and Mansell. There is another, more wild-looking and special group of them on the trail above Redwood Playground.

Near the tennis courts, across John F. Shelley Drive from the ampitheater parking lot.

Behind Redwood Playground.

Further reading

Climent, José, et al. “Fire Adaptations in the Canary Islands Pine (Pinus Canariensis).” Plant Ecology, Springer, 2004. https://www.academia.edu/14247376/Fire_adaptations_in_the_Canary_Islands_pine_Pinus_canariensis_

Hernánez Jiménez, Vicente. "Our Lady of the Pine." The Pine Tree, Ayuntamiento de Teror, https://fiestadelpino.teror.es/historia/.

"Vino de Tea." Ark of Taste. Slow Food Foundation for Biodiversity. https://www.fondazioneslowfood.com/en/ark-of-taste-slow-food/vino-de-tea/

My neighbors' tree