A fondness for fronds
Palm trees remind me of beach towns. If the Sacramento Valley turned into a sea or the Big One came along and knocked the coast into the ocean, Chico would have a good start on having some of the appropriate foliage to celebrate its liberation from being landlocked.
Despite their associations with balmy weather, palm trees are surprisingly hardy. This is Chico, after all. It can get kind of nippy around here. Many of the city’s palms have somehow survived more than a century of winter temperatures that dip down into the 20s and sometimes reach the teens.
Palms are among the tallest trees in Chico’s urban forest. They give it a hint of the jungle. They perfectly express John Bidwell’s desire to populate the city he founded with exotic plants.
Bidwell and his wife Annie were fond of native plants, too. They liked to roam the countryside on “botanizing” expeditions. But they had no qualms about mixing it up. Immigrant and native plants were equally welcome in their eden.
Palm trees are regal. A row of them can add a touch of elegance to the shabbiest street. One or two of them can redeem the most unkempt yard.
They are made to order for grand boulevards.
Chicoans continue to add them to the landscape despite modern-day concerns about how appropriate they are.
They have nothing to do with Chico’s physical environment, but everything to do with its cultural heritage. Nature didn’t put them here, but settlers brought them. They wanted to add yet another marvel to this garden of earthly delights. They wanted something that couldn’t grow in Brooklyn, Boise or Battle Creek.
The palm trees shown in this entry are, top to bottom, next to The Graduate on W. Seventh Street, the southwest corner of E. First and Mangrove avenues, the southwest corner of W. Fifth and Hazel streets and Broadway in the Barber neighborhood.