The oak tree is a sentinel, keeping watch over houses and people spread out below it.
The tree has seen many changes. The busy street alongside it was once a dirt track. A farm wagon, a horse and buggy or a rider on horseback occasionally went by. Many other trees surrounded the oak in those days, trees taller and older than he. Sumac thickets sprang up here and there, wild rose bushes, honeysuckle vines, blackberries, with only the narrow dirt trail heading east and west past the tree.
One day a man cut some trees south of the oak and built a small house and a few more horses and wagons and riders traveled past. Rabbits and ‘possums, squirrels and groundhogs hid among the brambles or behind the oak and watched the goings on. After a few years, the small cabin came down and someone else built a larger white house with a front porch closer to the traffic of the road.
As more trees were cut and more houses sprang up, somehow the oak escaped ax and saw. It grew taller and sturdier, its limbs stretched further, sheltering wild creatures beneath it and many bird families in its branches.
Horses gave way to horseless carriages, Model T Fords and farm trucks. The occasional horseback rider still cantered past the oak but that was becoming a rarity. More trees were cut, the road was widened and paved; yet, the oak stood firm and strong, anchored to the ground with more than a hundred year’s worth of roots.
The oak has withstood many storms and strong winds. Lightning has popped around it but none touched the tree. Although lesser trees succumbed to some of Oklahoma’s fierce winds, the oak grabbed hold of the ground and wouldn’t let go.
In times of drought, its roots sank deeper into the ground and found water. When ice storms hit and brought down other trees, the oak waited for the sun and kept standing.
If trees could talk, what stories it could tell! Sometimes it sighs as wind stirs its branches but, like a sentinel, the tree stands tall and silent, keeping its secrets.
Speak Your Mind