The Old One is the name we gave to an oak tree that stood in an area off the end of our driveway. It was really, really tall with an enormous circumference. About ten years ago, it started to lean. Each year, it leaned a bit more until the roots on its north side were partially pulled from the earth and the tree leaned on a huge loblolly (Southern pine). We didn’t want to think about taking it down, and even though we worried that it might drop on someone, maybe a car going up our driveway, we couldn’t touch it.
When we were in Maine this summer, we received a frantic call from our daughter. “There’s a tree down on the driveway, a huge one. There was a huge whump when it fell.”
I looked at my husband. “So the Old One has finally fallen.”
But it wasn’t our Old One – it was the pine tree holding it up. The tree had broken off halfway down. We organized a tree removal company to come and get the tree out of the driveway, and when we returned, we saw that our Old One was now leaning on a spindly hardwood, threatening to fall at any time.
We knew the time had come and found a tree removal company (an arborist) who came several days later with his crew. The owner of the company is an Asian American with a doctorate in Philosophy from Harvard. My husband asked him how he came to what he is now doing. He replied his work paid the bills and he actually enjoyed it.
I couldn’t watch and stayed up at the house. When I finally descended the drive the next day, all I could see was the huge cross-section of the base of oak tree, still held to the earth by its roots. The rest of the tree, plus the one that had held it up, was now stacked in huge boles along our creek.
I had to get out to see it up close, but to be honest, it took more than a week before I could bring myself to do it. My daughter and I counted more than 150 rings (we couldn’t get an accurate count) which means the Old One had been standing there since at least the 1860s, maybe longer. Maybe it had seen rebel soldiers passing by; a famous Civil War battle occurred not far away. It had certainly seen turkeys from the turkey farm for which our road is named, and the farm that a black man had on our property – his great granddaughter stopped by one day looking for markers.
My one hope is that a sapling will spring from the still-anchored roots. I will cherish it, help it to flourish, and hope that it will stand tall and proud for another 150 years.
Vade in pace, Old One.
So sad. I hate losing trees
I’m hoping for that sapling!
It is always heartbreaking when these beautiful old trees must be taken down. I lost an ancient chestnut a few years ago… and mourned it for weeks. A nautral demise would be okay, but when they are still growing but taken down for safety, you do feel it.
I feel sad every time I go up and down our driveway. Maybe I can get my husband to plant a nice bush or something near it.
That would be a good idea… and there is still hope that a new scion will grow.
We have a fallen pine tree just outside of our town. It’s a pine and almost horizontal, but still healthy. Every time I pass it, I wonder at the resilience of nature.
I think if this one hadn’t been hanging over our driveway, we wouldn’t have touched it.
Reblogged this on Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie.
Thank you!
My dad an avid gardener would always say about any plant, tree etc; ‘they want to grow,’; so maybe in a year or so life will break through from those roots.
I have my fingers and toes crossed. I don’t want to think it is gone forever.
Four years ago while at the local supermarket I bought my wife a small, thin little Christmas tree (about 4inches high and q trunk of about 1/4 inch), with an expected life of a month.
It now sits in its tub. 2foot high and healthy; we love it.
I’m thinking your Old One is not done yet.
Thanks for the encouraging thought!
Oh no, how sad to lose such a majestic tree, but I like your attitude that new life may spring forward from it!
Fingers crossed. I’ll inspect it in the spring.
It’s kind of silly, I guess, but I mourn trees. I hate seeing them cut down for building but just losing one (especially one so grand with so much history) is sad. 🙁 Fingers crossed for a sapling.
Me, too. I believe I wrote another blog about a tree. I ‘ll take a look and maybe repost.