The Noble Oak
Having lived in the Florida panhandle for nearly all of my life, I am not a stranger to lush vegetation and marvelous trees of various types. Of them all, the oak tree is the one that most catches my eye. A true living legend, the mighty oak is a force to reckoned with. This particular one has been standing tall in our back yard since we moved to our home in the early ’80s.
Its girth and height silently proclaim dominance over all the other smaller oaks, and its wingspan of branches point to the pine trees in arrogance. Spring and Summer help it yield satiny leaves of vivid greens. It is in these seasons that the oak is most boastful and bright. Fall, of course, is the transition period where the majestic oak probably seems to lose its dignity and brilliance. Planted near the Gulf of Mexico, this tree has lived through…no…thrived rather, through its share of hurricanes. September through November has especially been unpredictable times. Yet, with each passing storm, this particular oak has stood…unmoved, cemented, refusing to give up its space in the earth beneath it. With a determination unlike other trees that have come and gone through the beating of straight-line winds and damaging hail, this oak prevails. It mocks the weather. It remains unharmed, untouched.
Its root tap is at least 5 feet deep, with many other roots extending upwards of 90 feet. Countless roots have made their way through the crusty earth and have taken hold, almost taunting anything nature may throw its way.
The winter months are when this tree takes on, what most would consider, its most unappealing appearance. The majority of its leaves have surrendered to the cold weather and have fallen in defeat. Only a few brittle leaves are left hanging on and dangling lifelessly from the branches. Naked, these branches now resemble the fingers of a little old lady: long, skinny, scarred by life’s hardships. I see something completely different, though.
I find that looking at this tree in what seems to be its most vulnerable state makes me respect it even more. It has been pushed and shoved by its environment. It has victoriously come through another hurricane season unscathed. It remains alive. It remains strong and true. It is still the biggest, boldest tree on our three-acre property.
That unclothed tree has a quiet confidence in no need for decorative leaves. No, it needs not any adorning. It is beautiful and is proudly resilient as it stands, completely erect, unbroken.
