Howdy Friends! Along the trail I call 25 waterfalls I noticed, after the leaves had all dropped one fall 7 years ago, an exceptionally big tree on the far side of the ravine. Each day as I rode by the towering oak I thought about how much that tree had been witness to over the centuries.
The ravine itself had not much been timbered, allowing for this monument to stand, but the surrounding acreage had been cleared for farming and now laid in forest of cultivated pine.
Those gently rolling hills of pine were once tobacco fields. Had, I wondered, workers gathered under the sweeping boughs of this grand oak seeking shelter from blistering sun? Had they dipped cool water from the crystal stream? What were its thoughts 200 years ago when the land all around was cleared?
What indeed was this quiet stream and peaceful ravine like in the ancient oak’s youth? How many hundreds of birds had nested in its branches? How many foxes curled for a day’s rest between its roots? Deer for centuries had paused to dine on its acorns. I wondered what it thought of Kessy and me as we rode by.
Ravishin’ Robbie and I walked out one day to that grand oak, I wanted to show her the beauty, and I wanted to measure the trunk. Fifty inches up the circumference of the trunk is 11’6” or 138.’’
Using the International Society of Arboriculture’s formula for aging a tree I divided 138 by 3.14 (pi) then multiplying by the white oak growth factor of 5, I determined this monarch to be 219 years of age. It was a seedling in 1796. How amazing and intriguing is that?
One day before too long, Miss Rosie and I will visit the old girl again. I plan on reopening my trail along the 25 waterfall stream with the help of a few young lads from church. ~ Gitty Up, Dutch.
