We have two old oak trees that stand at the end of our driveway. It’s really an understatement for me to say that I love those trees. I have taken many photos of them as I consider them works of art.
Those oaks rain acorns down in the late summer and fall and in high winds drop small branches all over our drive. When I’m feeling particularly fatalistic I wonder how long it will be before one of their more impressive branches drops blocking us in…or out.
Who knows how old those mighty oaks are? But, their lives are finite, just like ours. And the loss of a major branch may just herald the coming end of the tree’s long life. It’s a sobering thought for me. But just like people, the oak has a way of dealing with its mortality.
Thomas Carlyle said it best. “When the oak is felled the whole forest echoes with its fall, but a hundred acorns are sown in silence by an unnoticed breeze.”
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