In Altadena

Oak trees preserved the Blue House on East Calaveras Street. Seriina Covarrubias is certain.

When she returned after the Eaton fire, much of Altadena was in ruins. Houses and nearby shops in nearby North Oak have been destroyed. Her garage and precious garden were demolished. Her house was filled with smoke-but it survived, as did the two giant oaks that covered it. She thought it was a little miracle.

A few weeks later, the Army Corps of Engineers marked the trees as demolished, but certified orchidologists regarded them as second opinion and thought they were healthy. It is believed that the oak, at least 60 years old, does not appear to be blocking any entry points or posing a danger and green leaves.

It doesn’t matter. They were cut down last weekend for nearly two months since the fire.

“When I discovered this problem, it was as bad as thinking I had lost my house. I could have thanked them for the work they did to protect my house,” said Covarrubias, 43.

By Arborist Rebecca Latta’s estimates, thousands of trees in Altadena are marked for demolition: oak, pine, smoked ash, deodar cedar – trees that have been plowing in the town for decades.

Now she works with other erected landscape professionals and residents to save the believed trees that survive and preserve the magnificent green leaves that once shaped the once devastating town.

Officials have not released the number and type of trees that have been cut down. According to the Coordinated Joint Information Center, the Army Corps hired certified orchidologists to assess the likelihood of tree branch and root damage and cause death within five years.

Latta and an independent tree care professional who canvassed Altadena for weeks, thought many trees were wrongly marked as demolition. Some people suffer from smoke damage and may appear dead in the exposed winter appearance, but scratches below the bark surface suggest that many trees will resume growth. After the rain, some people have started leaves – welcome the green landscape.

Latta grew up in a small town above Pasadena, a few days after the fire gathered volunteers, and he co-founded Altadena Green a few days after the fire gathered. She knows these trees. She has been chasing the entire Altadena chainsaw sound to check the trees marked as demolished and checked the oak of Covarrubias before chopping. The blue dots and red ribbons above her team were tied around the trees to indicate demolition, and a green ribbon marked “Feeding” was added, confident that the trees would not fall and over time, water and prune, they would continue to grow.

Covarrubias contacted Los Angeles County and the Legion to inform them that they had no permission to cut down trees. She said she had never practiced the property and had not given verbal or written consent – the coordinated Joint Information Center said it was a requirement before the trees were removed. She had previously signed the right to entry, which granted permission to clean up debris and authorized the removal of dangerous trees (a subjective assessment) but attempted to revoke it.

The next-door neighbor of Covarrubias lost her home and said she was told to keep the trees slowing down the removal process of debris. She didn’t want this to happen, but she said Covarrubias, who shared tree ownership online, needed consultation.

Eventually, her plea was ignored, Covarubbias said. She has since spoken to the Army Corps about her experience and hopes the process will change.

County Supervisor Kathryn Barger recently spoke about concerns about tree removal at a community meeting.

“I strongly oppose cutting down Altadna’s trees if the homeowner wants to keep them,” she said. “I promise that before removing the debris, the owner of the property will be notified at least five days in advance and have the opportunity to know if a tree on its property is unsafe or needs to be demolished.”

Wynne Wilson inspected the bark of the deodar cedar tree, which was planned to be demolished.

(Yamada/Los Angeles Times)

Altadena Green (other co-founders are Stephanie Landregan, UCLA promotes landscape architecture and gardening programs, Arborist Drew Ready, landscape architect Maggie Lobl and landscape designer Wynne Wilson) has drawn the military’s attention to premature transformation of trees. Wilson hopes the process will slow down because she fears more trees will be demolished unnecessarily. She said several trees were mistaken for this, which would affect the overall assessment of tree health.

Wilson lost his home in the fire and has since done his mission to protect the natural and historical beauty of Altadena. Over the years, visitors would flock to her garden to learn about the native plants and varieties she tends to.

“It’s really heartbreaking because trees can’t speak for themselves – they need us to take care of them,” she said.

Trees are loved in Altadena, symbolizing the connection between the community and nature. For some, their losses are deeply hurt, especially shortly after the disaster.

On a recent hot afternoon, she discovered several trees that she thought were wrongly demolished. These include mahogany and two smoky. A resident posted signs on the trees on the sidewalk, not far from the remnants of her home.

The message warns: “Don’t remove the tree.” “The smoke must be saved!”

On Wynne Wilson’s property, the sun shines brightly on a new growth in a charred tree.

(Yamada/Los Angeles Times)

Brandon Perez’s family home on Rubio Street was destroyed in a fire. Then, not long after, the power company suggested that they remove the huge Italian stone pine trees.

“It’s frustrating to see it appear,” said Perez, 27. “It’s definitely the second dagger.”

During the Eaton fire, the tree survived the strong winds and was only slightly damaged. Treecarela Arborist Nickolas Araya, who works with her family, questioned the tree could pose a risk to power lines.

“There is no reason to cut it down,” he said. “Everything – I won’t use the word easily – all the orchidologists in Los Angeles are coming together and we are working to figure out how to stop this from happening.”

On Calaveras Street, Covarrubias returned home for the first time since the trees were cut down. One of the trees obscured her meditation garden and it disappeared. Another kept her backyard away from the hot sun, often running down her dog. Squirrels and eagles will find a chance to breathe in the branch.

Now all that is left are two tree stumps.

To her disappointment, the cut jagged jagged, unclean, gave her little hope that they could grow up. When other trees on her property still exist, such as the large number of elms that make up her home, the oaks are heavily lost.

Seriina Covarrubias returns to her house and bid farewell to the cut down trees.

(Myung J. Chun/Los Angeles Times)

Covarrubias’ health has worsened by smoke toxins and she doesn’t know when or if she will be able to move back home. She said that if the air is safe for her, the earliest one would be next January. The fresh loss of trees will make things even more difficult.

Taking over what was missing, she sprinkled the top of the stump. She knelt in front of them, one at a time, silently thanking her for her gratitude.

“I’m sorry, I can’t save you.”