Annie and Jeff’s White Oak
Our client Annie wrote a beautiful tribute to a large Eastern White Oak in her and her husband Jeff’s care. They kindly let us repost it, below.
When a Mother Tree Falls
In the middle of the night on July 4, 2021, Jeff heard a powerful crack, and a slow loud crash to the ground. Something very big had just happened. For no reason anyone has yet to determine, Eileen (an Eastern White Oak) came to the end of her life, splitting about 30 feet high and bending downward to the ground.
I first found her hard to believe. I mean, how do trees stay standing with a lean like that?…and yet there she have been all these 200 years or so of her beloved life. She has remained strong, Until that night.
So, well now what? What we are learning about life, once again, is how fast things can change. My friend Greg shared...“As much as we want life to unfold in expected and anticipated ways, we are often faced with the consequences of the unexpected.” How humbling it is to be surrounded by the power of nature. How grateful we are for the many lessons and challenges life brings.
As we began to research the “what now,” we reached out to our friend and arborist, Chardin Detrich, who has helped us understand some things.
As a tree dies, it passes on nutrients to surrounding forest life. The stump roots will continue to live on and feed the other trees for years to come in an active way. The birds, insects, and microscopic life (that are the foundation of it all), will benefit from her body, willingly given.
So a decision was made to get her safely on the ground and gather up appropriate logs for growing mushrooms, placing contour logs in place to hold our steepish slope and prevent erosion, providing bird habitat. There is now more sunshine for the young Cucumber Magnolia and American Beech trees growing right beside her, ready to take off and become a beautiful addition to the woods. I am sure there will be many other blessings as she lives on in this new state. Our cat, Oliver, is super happy to have a new place to climb and explore. There is also now a very large stump that I can stand on now and tell my truth to the world, or sing a song, or tell a joke.
Along with all of this, for me, comes the realization that I will be long gone from this life before she rots to soil. So, that alone was a breathtaking moment. I am now asking myself…what is my plan for succession? How will I nurture the life of those around me? Not just now, but for long after I have gone. This will be my current work.