(Imagine the Captain America “I understood that reference” meme here. This post is dedicated to long-time readers of the League’s old Placemaking blog who have been waiting five years since my last post, before that publication’s sunset; you knew this had to be my first post here.)

When you’re in Grand Rapids for this year’s Convention, step out of the Amway Grand Plaza and take a stroll down Monroe Center Street. Monroe Center runs diagonally past Rosa Parks Circle and the art museum and is a great example of how street trees can support a sense of place in a walkable shopping district.

First of all, the trees certainly aren’t the only thing this street does well. At about 80 feet wide, it’s not a particularly narrow right-of-way, but most of that space is dedicated to the human experience, rather than being a multi-lane highway. In stark contrast to the five-lane streets nearby, Monroe Center has only a single, one-way, through-travel lane for automobiles, with on-street parking on either side for a total curb-to-curb distance of only 30 feet. That keeps traffic speeds slow and emphasizes that this is a street for accessing and spending time at the businesses and institutions along it, rather than zipping through as fast as possible. 

It also has good proportions, with most of the buildings standing three to four stories tall, and a few around 10 stories. Having building heights that are similar to the width of the street right-of-way help provide a comforting sense of enclosure, whereas buildings that are too short feel overwhelmed by the pavement. (Many communities make the error of capping main street building heights too low, at two or three stories, for fear that the buildings will “loom” over the street, and they fail to achieve this vital sense of enclosure as a result.) Importantly, the buildings are not monoliths: most have distinct first floors with storefront-style or similar facades, even if they’re not a business meant for walk-in visitors. Having a first story that is distinct from the upper stories, has a floor at sidewalk level and a taller ceiling (on the order of 15 to 17 feet), and a high percentage of glass, broadcasts that this is a street for people to stroll down and spend time on. 

But Murph, you said this was about the trees. Okay, so about the trees. 

Monroe Center has a nice line of street trees—I’m going to assert they’re a mix of honey locusts and lindens, in hopes that someone who actually knows trees contacts me with a correction—planted down either side in vaults a few feet from the curb. Street trees of course have numerous direct benefits, such as providing summer shade to reduce heat and absorbing stormwater and air pollutants, but the size and placement of these trees is what makes them great. 

The 80-foot right-of-way here is still a fairly wide street, and the trees serve to break it into three zones of comfortable sizes. On either side of the street, there’s about 15 feet of sidewalk between the storefronts and the row of street trees, forming a nice enclosure with the bottom of the tree canopy and the headers in the first story of the buildings. When you are walking down this street or sitting at one of the sidewalk cafes, you don’t feel like you’re on a street that’s 80 feet wide surrounded by buildings four to 10 stories tall; you feel like you’re in an outdoor room that’s big enough that you’re not bumping into strangers, but small enough to feel cozy and personal.

The third zone is in the middle of the street, between the two rows of trees. The trees and parked cars create a visual effect of narrowing and enclosing, reinforcing to drivers that they’re not on the wide-open road, but on a busy street with a lot of pedestrians; they need to slow down. These lower speeds improve safety for everyone, pedestrians and drivers alike, as well as reduce traffic noise.

You already know that I don’t think more trees is always better—you need “the right tree in the right place,” as well as the right maintenance program—but when you get that formula right, street trees can be a powerful ingredient in your Main Street placemaking work.

P.S. Want to keep talking trees? Lucky you, we’ve got a breakout session on forestry in an urban context on the Convention agenda for you. Check it out on Friday morning.

Author

Richard Murphy

Murph is a giant nerd who turned to a life of urban planning only after studying computer science and aerospace engineering. (Technically, no, he’s not a rocket scientist, but you’d be forgiven for thinking so.) He worked in city hall and regional planning roles before going state-wide with the League. He can see the matrix of your zoning ordinance when walking down the street, though he enjoys walking in national parks even more. He also enjoys biking, tabletop role-playing games, and caring for a number of kids and cats. Murph has used a one-word name since the sixth grade.