~ Old Bur Oak ~

This is a photograph of an old tree on the far edge of the field where I like to walk. It is a Quercus macrocarpa, more commonly known as a bur oak.

Long ago, when European settlers were first moving through the old forests of North America, they found vast numbers of bur oaks of great age and size. The boughs of macrocarpa tend to grow out horizontally, running parallel to the earth; in olden times they would often extend outward as much as 70 feet from the trunk before their weight would bend them to the ground. This peculiar growth pattern created large circular clearings in the primordial forests that the new people called Oak Openings.

Imagine for a moment that you are standing in such a place: A great, leafy hollow, perhaps 150 feet across and 30 or 40 feet high, with a mighty pillar-like trunk rising up at the center . . . So large were some Oak Openings that settlers would sometimes circle their Conestoga wagons within their protective shelter.

This particular bur oak---the survivor of at least one lightning strike, but still a relative youngster in terms of the life spans allocated to trees---is a very special friend of mine. I visit it most every day. It is a favorite spot for hawks and crows. It gave me a bit of wood from its hollow that I fashioned into the ceremonial drum beater that you can see on another page, and I, in return, have planted its fallen acorns from central Indiana to southern Ontario. The photograph, you may notice, suggests a certain presence. Often, when standing in the shade of the tree, I imagine I can feel that quiet presence. It is old, and patient, and very wise.

BACK TO CONTENTS