Every species fails differently. Find yours before it does.

The Valley's default pine — and its default windstorm casualty.

Looks fine right up until it isn't — the tree that hides its decay.

Native, protected in many cities, and worth more than everything else in the yard.

A weeping beauty with a wrecking-ball root system and no patience for hard pruning.

The Valley's most-planted yard tree — graceful, tough, and a serial limb-dropper.

Shade in five years, surprises in fifteen — water-hungry and weak-wooded.

Fast, brittle, oily — the Valley's most notorious limb-dropper.

A perfect green wall on top. A slow-motion demolition crew below.

The Valley's shade machine — usually running on decades of bad haircuts.

The exclamation points along the driveway — until mites, canker, or wind bend one.

Six weeks of purple glory, then the sticky homework — almost always a trim, never a grudge.

Protected statewide — removal starts with a permit, not a price.

The Valley's best fall color. The Valley's worst thing to step on.

Gets more beautiful every decade — and messier every fall, unless it's fruitless.

The biggest thing on the block — sheds bark, leaves, and the occasional limb.