In last October's NUTSHELL, an organ of the Northern Nut Growers' Association, Spencer Chase, its editor, called attention to a showing of Carpathian Persian walnuts by Mr. H. F. Stoke which illustrated what was called "the variability of seedling trees." The progenitor of these seedlings was a Lancaster Carpathian Persian walnut tree. Differences in size, appearance and quality of nuts from these seedlings were said to have been remarkable. Such differences, we know, are greater with some species than with others. A variable ancestry often results in a variable progeny. On the other hand, I know that my Eastern American black walnuts do tend to reproduce the characteristics of their parents. I have long rows of seedling trees, all from one parent tree, standing alongside long rows of seedlings from another parent. The similarity of the tree growth and nut production of the trees in their own rows, and their contrast in growth of trees and nuts to those in adjoining rows is striking and to me conclusive. A photograph taken by Dr. O. D. Diller, of Ohio State University, in 1946, shows trees in a right-hand row grown from seed of a tree on the Kinsey farm, while on the left are seedlings of a tree on the McCoy farm. The circumference of trunks of Kinsey seedlings averages more than twice that of McCoy trees. Same soil, same age (11 years), same treatment.
Those same trees, now 17 years old, still show these striking characteristics. It is true that each tree in a row of seedlings is an individual in its own right. No others are exactly like it. Nevertheless, the family resemblances in that row are very like those in human families. They are especially noticeable in the nuts—with, for example, rough shells in one row and smooth shells in another; mainly large nuts in one and mainly small nuts in an adjoining family. Also, some rows have mostly straight-growing trees, others are predominantly branchy, like the Thomas.
It should be said in this connection that practically all of the parent trees of these seedlings stood in isolated positions and little subject to pollination from other trees.
So much for the Eastern Black walnut's evidence of hereditary influence.
So, let us take inventory.
Today, I figure that the thousand well-grown trees in this planting are each adding a dollar per year to the value of the 20 acres upon which they stand. $1000 per year in all. This estimate, which of course seems optimistic, is based upon the statement of a walnut tree buyer—a sawmill man—who tells me that a well grown, deep-soil, 50-year-old Eastern Black walnut tree should average about $50 in value. Thus far, my 17-year-old youngsters, some of them nearly 3 feet in girth (9-1/2 to 11 or more inches in diameter at breast height) look promising.
In addition to the potential added value of $1000 per year, this 20 acres has produced about two tons of in-hull nuts from selected trees only, in each of the past two years, (with more than that in prospect this year), while the land beneath the trees grows good pasture and helps to support a small herd of cattle and calves.
Once the trees were thoroughly established, the labor investment has been very small. Nature, for the most part, has done her own pruning, and has done it better than I deserve. Since the first half-dozen years, there has been no cultivation. The trees have been practically trouble-free. Winds have damaged a few and one wet spot has killed three trees. There are a few black locust trees among the walnuts. I can see no evidence that the walnuts have made either better or poorer growth because of the proximity of these nitrogen storers. Perhaps the evidence will show up later. We shall see.
The last item in this inventory, added value to the estate, is still potential, but the potential is surprising. If my walnut timber buyer's estimate is trustworthy, in 17 years the best 1000 trees have added 17,000 potential dollars to the value of that 20 acres. And they have done it with safety, with little labor on my part and, lately, with annual dividends of excellent nuts and good pasture. No other kind of forestry that I know of can do that.
It would, of course, be foolish to claim that the kind of management here described would be wise or workable with other forest species. Wise forest management requires, first of all, that the choice of species shall be adapted to the soil and climate favored by that species. It requires a proper density of stand. Finally, good management demands that a choice be made of the most valuable type of timber that can be produced upon your land. If you can grow walnut successfully, it would be foolish to grow Willow or Box Elder.
One necessary thing I must do, a thing that I should advise others similarly situated to do, namely, place a tight legal fence around this twenty acres in order to assure the trees' survival until 50 years have proved or disproved my faith. For, after all, these trees are guinea pigs—pioneering. They break some traditional rules. The land they stand on is grazed. They are not set the traditional 80 feet apart. Their nut crops may dwindle away. One never sees walnut trees growing in pure stands—always with other species which scatter their seeds and push in. They are not monopolists—like the pines.