How To Prune A Chinese Elm Bonsai Tree
Before PruningIt's good to have hobbies, especially those that require one to slow down and think. For me, the hobby of keeping one lone Chinese Elm Bonsai tree helps me to work on the virtues most neglected in my life, silence, patience, long term diligence, and awareness. With the recent stress of balancing holiday shopping, work, graduate school, housekeeping, and a dozen other things, I had been remiss in my practice of these good qualities. And I would still be blinded to my lapses had nature not been there to remind me. Outside my window, snow dropped at a rapid pace of one to three inches an hour, and on the window sill, working at an exponentially slower pace, my bonsai was growing out of control. The wintry weather forced me to physically stay inside, but the tiny tree impelled a deeper, mental stillness.
The main goal in keeping bonsai is to let the tree's natural beauty take shape. If one tries to force a specimen into something too far outside its natural form, the tree will not flourish and eventually die. Bonsai can be guided by the artistic eye of the caretaker, but this process takes years and years. And as someone who has lost several specimens before, I have finally come to peace with the truth that my Chinese Elm will not be rushed despite my nagging desire to see it full grown.
Now I cannot claim masterful patience yet, as I bought the tree at an after Christmas sale last year when it was already about ten years old. I'd learned through some research that the Chinese Elm is a great tree for a beginner. It can be kept outside, if shielded from harsh winter weather, and trained to be a deciduous tree that loses its leaves in the fall. Or if brought inside for the winter, this species will keep its leaves all year and become an evergreen tree. I choose to keep mine on a sunny window sill during the colder months, and so my tree wears the greens of spring and summer even on a snowy day.
Perhaps due to the restlessness of being stuck indoors, I took a fresh look at my elm and suddenly became struck with admiration at how it continues to grow despite the minimal amount of care it receives. The hardy, flexible and forgiving nature of the Chinese Elm not only makes it a great bonsai, but also a great example of a way of living. It can survive in less than ideal conditions, remain cheery and green in the dead of winter, and doesn't mind being pruned back. In fact, regular trimming will inspire it to become a better, more beautiful tree in its old age.
The first and ongoing task of a bonsai keeper is to find the tree's natural shape. After nearly a year of caring for this tree, I deemed that the sinuous line of its trunk would be best complimented by a triangular shape for its foliage. So, as a guiding rule, the tree's longest branches are longest at the bottom and grow shorter and more delicate as they ascend the trunk. There should be some informal symmetry to the tree as well, with a balanced number of branches spiraling around the trunk. To show off the fine lines of its trunk and branches, one should be able to clearly view the tree's silhouette with no branches crisscrossing each other or pointing directly at the viewer. Also, to create a feeling of depth, branches in the back should be trained to grow away from the front view (in my case, towards the window). And in some bonsai books, it is recommended that the tree never leans away from the beholder, but rather should slightly "bow its head" near its top.
As I got my scissors, tweezers, wire (I use the really malleable colored paper clips and bobby pins), and pliers, I set a teapot on the stove to boil and forced myself to wait, to not just start pruning away, but to think about how to best reveal the tree's natural spirit. Once I had an idea of what shape I wanted, I got started, but quickly became disoriented. While I worked on one branch, I'd notice another one nearby that had to be trimmed or wired into place, and start working on that branch instead. I also was distracted by pruning off older leaves that had become too large, especially those near the top of the tree. Before I knew it, I'd forgotten what branch I had started on and where I was going.
Halfway through pruning
With another cup of tea, I decided to once again contemplate my task silently and formulated another plan. I would work up the base of the tree and prune each branch in height order. Now I was able to work with more awareness, returning to the focal point of the trunk and the ascending branches whenever I strayed off track. Towards the end of this hour long process, I looked at the tree and was almost dissapointed. Sure it looked neater and cleaner, but with ten to twenty percent of the leaves gone, it looked less vibrant. Wondering if I'd made a mistake, I reminded myself that this tree was a work in progress and it will not reach full potential for many years. New buds will appear to replace the old ones, indeed they already were, and these too will have to be pruned and trimmed. But in the long run, regular maintenance will bring out more beauty than unchecked wild growth.
After Pruning
There is something about bonsai on a snow day that inspires transcendental insights. After this experience, I recognized the necessity of creative destruction in bonsai care and in life. If left in the wilds of East Asia, my Chinese Elm tree might have grown up to sixty feet tall. And although the confines of its pot and its coarse, sandy soil keep it dwarfed, the tree is still thriving. Like the bonsai tree, most of us will not ever reach the full heighth of Nobel Prize winners, millionaires, or accomplished celebrities, but we can still bring out our natural dignity in confining environments. We must be willing to cut out unnecessary, overgrown habits in order to allow new branches of personal growth to appear. We must act always in self-awareness, work deliberately at one task at a time, and not get criss-crossed between conflicting parts of our lives. Although the process of finding our natural shape and balance is slow and laborious, we must perform it in patience and quiet joy, knowing we are works in progress. And if someone does eventually stop to admire the inherent beauty we have achieved, then we must not be too proud notice, rather we should give them our full attention and bow our heads with the humility of a small Chinese Elm.
Nature,
Tree,
Winter,
bonsai,
bonsai care,
chinese elm,
gardening,
growth,
plants,
snow 





Reader Comments (5)
I enjoyed reading this and seeing the photos. It looks like you did a great job, not only with the tree, but with an hour of reflection as well. I think I may have a cup of tea!
Dude, excellent post. The bonsai tree is a perfect metaphor for the growth of the human spirit, which is constantly molded by our interaction with world, and pruned by mistakes, but if we are lucky, we keep growing, we keep striving for perfection.
You did a great job of describing the process of molding the tree. I love how elements of Taoist and Zen Buddhist philosophy can influence something like this. I actually tried growing one once, but I was too immature and impatient. It died.
I wish you luck on the process of becoming
Great post -- the metaphor of the tree for growth and change while balancing with the stillness and the snow day was just pleasureable. Your writng did not seem to rush at all. It was a comforting talk as tea simmers. The subject led to many moments of easy tones that linger now that beckons me to respond. Just a great post to learn from. Thanks.
Where do you get such a thing? Why did you get it? Zen and maintence of Bonsai Trees should be a good book to start off the new year. I don't expect you to answer; if it was that important you would have put it in the post. My favorite part was paragraph four when you explained the enduring nature of the tree because it is so forgiving. It forgives and grows. It adapts and grows again. There is something incredibly profound in the power of forgiveness.
I will take many good thoughts away from your post. It was a pleasure to share that hour and tree with you. And somehow, I think the tree knew all along it would snow because that is just what you and we needed.
I could definately relate to you post, as am a gardener and like a bonsai, a garden cannot be rushed. Sometimes, no matter how diligentl one may be, nature always wins in the end. Some species don't to thrive in our soil, some need a particular aspect that our little stamp of real estate doesn't provide. Sometimes we force something to grow outside of it's zone. Even Mother Nature doensn't always cooperate, as I learned yesterday, when the snow decimated my thirty year old hedges. They were planted in a horseshoe around a picnic table and were fully mature when I bought the house. Previously, another heavy snowfall had done quite a bit of damage several years ago, but with time and careful pruning, new growth had managed to fill in the holes and repair much of the damaged areas. Now I'm afraid time and patience are needed in my garden once again. I cannot help but view this unfortunate occurence as a metaphor for my life and act accordingly. With pruning comes new growth. WIth time and patience, most damage can be repaired.
In the words of Bob Dylan, "Not busy being born is busy dying." Thanks for your post and best of luck with your little tree.
Mr. Miyagi would be very proud of your progress Nickison!
Your post is extremely coincidental for me after having watched all three of the Karate Kids this past weekend. Miyagi, in the first and especially the third, is quite fascinated with the bonsai tree, and sees all of its qualities that you described so vividly and delicately in the same metaphorical manner as you.
In the third installment, Miyagi attempts to teach Daniel the art of bonsai pruning and uses this craft as a culmination of his training. The artistry of forbearance elucidated by Miyagi through the bonsai pruning serves as a wonderful lesson for Daniel in his karate and life as well. Daniel learns that impetuous speed and raw anger is ineffective when overcoming conflicts, much like the bonsai pruner (you) learn that hasty desires for perfection are equally ineffective.
I like this post most because I feel the process of bonsai pruning serves as a wonderful counter to the dilemmas of obsession with sports that I attribute to so many of today's misguided souls. Thanks for the lunch!