Open Spaces
The writer of a recent news article mentioned a golfer who hit his ball into an oak tree where it lodged until the tree died and was cut down. Having been the owner of a 70-year-old oak tree at Brant Lake, (about which I had written before), I know the wonder of a giant oak. Our tree also died and had to be cut down last year. We then faced the challenge of what to plant in the empty space that had been occupied by the oak.
Should we plant another oak? We considered this option only to realize we wouldn’t live to witness a magnificent tree – Only a tiny sapling. From this realization we concluded that we would never replace what had once existed! Time passes and it is incumbent on us to be realistic about what will occur in a given time period. We might wish to re-create the past but that is impossible.
Our next thought was to plant a birch tree where the oak one stood. Since oak trees presently grew on either side of the site where the oak had flourished this would establish a birch barrier over looking the lake. We would then have a wall of birch trees and our sight might be blocked as the birch expanded vertically and horizontally. The view as kayaks paddled by, water skiers skimmed the surface and fishermen reeled in bass would disappear.
So we spent the winter looking out at empty space where the oak once stood. What should we plant in the opening?
Now, as spring approaches, we wonder whether we should even fill that space. Spaces, like pauses between musical notes, are an important aspect of life. Whether the horizon is filled with monstrous buildings, or noise permeates a sense of quiet we have often lost the perspective of openness in our daily existence. The world is too much with us.
Perhaps that tree trunk, all that remains of the oak, symbolizes other aspects of our life that we should cut out. For that matter, should we even replant?
What is your opinion?
Dear Dan, As with many thngs in our lives a new oak is your gift to your grandchildren and their children. We had the same experience with a tree and we immediately replaced it knowing that it will never provide shade for Pat and I. A small plaque saying that you planted it in 2021 would be the finishing touch.
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Having struggled with replanting century-old maples in Maine, I know your choices well–wait some time and enjoy the view. You will KNOW what to do then.
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I wonder what killed the oak? I think I would leave the space treeless unless you need shade for some reason. I would plant a replacement oak somewhere else. A tree for the future.
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I would put a lovely pedistal bird bath with sun sensor fountain in it on the stump and surround the base with planters with lovely flowers.
Bruce
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Sit on the trunk with your favorite glass of red wine think of all those wonderful days as that tree was growing as. you look over Brant. Lake
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Words to live by. I endorse completely. Wishing you a wonderful camp season. What a difference a year makes. Take care.
Edward
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Live with it for a year and see how it feels– if you want a screen and new life, or open spaces.
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You can never replace what is lost. Enjoy your view from the new space. Adele
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Nice post. Thank you. My opinion (since you ask): To honor the old oak and to add to the Earth’s tree population, yes,
replant, But replant in a different more appropriate place that preserves the openness to the lake.
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Open your horizons and welcome the passing as the present. Such lovely thoughts.
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