By Peter Pavarini
It’s said that both children and older folks enjoy planting oaks but for different reasons. Youngsters are enthralled by the idea that something as small as an acorn will someday grow into a towering tree. Oldsters plant acorns in hopes of leaving a legacy.
Visiting an Ancient Denizen
Recently, while walking along the banks of the Olentangy River on a beautiful spring morning, I happened upon a colossal bur oak tree. In truth, for years, I had admired this tree from the inside of my car while commuting to work every day. But only now in retirement, had I found time to stop and visit this ancient denizen.
For those unfamiliar with bur oaks (Quercus macrocarpa), they are members of the white oak family and relatively common in the prairies and bottomlands of the Midwest. To the untrained eye, the bur oak looks very similar to the white oak. However, the bur oak’s acorn – with a diameter of up to two inches – makes it the largest seed of all native oaks and can be readily identified by its distinct fringed cup. In most other respects, the two species are identical. Throughout the world, oaks like these are favored for their longevity, stability and strength.
The bur oak I encountered is 80 feet tall, has a circumference of 237 inches and an average crown spread of 113 feet – not quite the width of a football field, but close. Although there’s no way of knowing how old an oak like this is without cutting it down, those metrics suggest that the tree in question sprouted 377 years ago, in 1646 – the year King Charles I of England was executed for treason.
Today, shortly before another Charles is crowned king of the United Kingdom, a number of such venerable oaks remain standing in the United States. As a younger man, I stood awestruck before the Wye Oak – then the world champion white oak – located on Maryland’s eastern shore. That tree was thought to be nearly 500 years old before it met its demise in a 2002 thunderstorm.
Living Well
But this column is not about living long as much as it is about living well.
The Book of Psalms tells us that a blessed person is someone who:
…like a tree is planted by streams of water
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither –
whatever they do prospers. Psalm 1:3
Scientists have determined that giant oaks like these have root systems 2.5 times greater than their height. My oak is fortunate to have been planted by a river. While it’s no Mississippi, the Olentangy flows year-round and is just one of Ohio’s few remaining “natural” rivers. Before being settled by white people, the Valley of the “River of Red Face Paint” –what “Olentangy” means in the native Shawnee tongue –was heavily populated by several prehistoric mound building cultures attracted by the valley’s rich resources.
No Guarantee of Long Life
But being planted in a well-watered valley doesn’t guarantee any tree a long life. In 1913, when the Olentangy bur oak was 267 years old, this region was ravaged by an epic flood. After four days of driving rain, the river rose 23 feet above its flood stage, taking with it the lives of at least 428 people, destroying thousands of homes and nearly every bridge along its path. Surely, the bur oak in question was inundated by that flood. And yet, it survived.
Bur oaks seem to do best at the edge of a prairie or when standing alone in a field. While they are able to co-exist with other tree species, they only survive about 80 years when competing for light and nutrients in a dense woodland. Of all oak species, bur oaks are the most fire-resistant once they reach maturity. This explains why they are frequently found in the “oak openings” of the Midwest. Such treeless areas are believed to be the result of fires ignited by lightning or set by humans to clear land for their crops.
Why Oaks Are Prized
As beautiful as they are when fully leafed-out in mid-summer, oaks would never have been prized throughout history had they not also been useful to mankind. Their lumber has long been used for the frames of ships, barns and other structures because of its durability and strength. Nor would wine lovers be able to enjoy an oaky Chardonnay without the barrels made from this particular tree. While many trees are desirable because of how quickly they provide shade in one’s yard, oaks are rarely the most popular tree at the local nursery. Frankly, growing an oak requires a great deal more time than most people are willing to invest. But for the patient few, planting an oak represents hope for the future as well appreciation of why this legendary plant has been celebrated in song, literature and gardens from time immemorial.
History’s most famous oaks have been given classic names that endured long after the trees themselves turned into topsoil. Connecticut’s “Charter Oak”, South Carolina’s “Liberty Oak”, Mississippi’s “Friendship Oak”, and Iowa’s “Council Oak” – are just a few that come to mind. The last one mentioned was a large bur oak which stood proudly in Sioux City until it was cut down in the 1970s. Local legend says that tree shaded Lewis and Clark when they counseled with native people on their way west in 1804. Although the legend has never been verified, it captures the pioneer spirit of that simpler time.
Living One Day at a Time
No matter how many years a person is given, human lives unfold one day at a time. Some of us have been blessed by being planted in a nurturing family and protected by a once free and fair society, thereby giving us a chance at living a long, prosperous life. Others have not been so blessed, but have nonetheless managed to overcome the adversity they faced and gone on to live full, productive lives. Just as every ancient tree has its own distinct story, each person’s time on earth is a unique mosaic of circumstances – some predetermined, some a matter of choice.
Standing beneath the branches of the Olentangy bur oak, still leafless in the early spring, I considered some of what this tree must have witnessed through the centuries:
- indigenous people walking along the nearby Scioto Trail in search of buffalo;
- other natives collecting fish from the river with their nets and birch bark canoes;
- a pioneer family resting in the shade of this tree after planting corn on several acres of land they had cleared by hand;
- runaway slaves escaping from the South who considered the river to be their “underground railroad” to freedom;
- teenage boys who played in this valley only to be drafted into the Union Army and die in the hills of Tennessee;
- mill workers using the natural power of the Olentangy’s currents to manufacture woolen blankets for American troops in several wars;
- the first electric railroad train crossing the river on a bridge later destroyed in the 1913 flood;
- the low-head dams that were built to prevent catastrophic flooding but later removed so recreational kayakers could paddle past the tree on their way to the state capital;
- the countless weddings and other religious observances performed on the lawn of a rural chapel just several hundred yards from the base of this ancient tree.
An Acorn’s Promise
Imagine being a seedling which just sprouted from an acorn that fell out of this tree. Imagine having such stories secreted within you, shaping who you might eventually become.
An old man can feel young again with thoughts like these on a beautiful spring morning.
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