The sheer sense of panic I had when I thought we killed one of our oaks. Ten years ago, we moved onto a tree-lined street and these hundred year old arms held me through the transition. Shaded by their canopies during long walks around the neighborhood, I paced myself with gratitude and grief, a six-month-old strapped in. Watch what happens when you root yourself, they seemed to say.
I think my oak is diseased or dying. I don’t know whether I’m confessing or inquiring, but the arborist catches my concern and quickly begins assessing the symptoms. I feel like I’ve just rushed a family member into urgent care as I explain everything that happened leading up to the sudden dropping of leaves, wilting of branches.
We pulled out the remnants of what was meant to be a grassy lawn and replaced it with a deck a few months after moving in. This part of our yard, entirely shaded by the oak tree, was struggling, the mix of sprinklers and dappled sunshine leaving a constant soppy, unusable mud patch and sparse patches looking for light.
Your oak may have root rot. You see all these oaks randomly falling in the neighborhood? It’s the lawns. Lawns and oaks aren’t friends, the arborist says. When lawns are excessively watered in the summer, the trees can start to grow fungi. Oaks reflect their environment. They know they need to lie dormant in the heat, it’s their time to rest. Then winter water brings spring growth. He doesn’t give me a sure prognosis. By removing the sprinkler system, we may have shocked it for a moment, saved it in the long run. For now, we wait and see how she revives (me too, I think).
It’s currently slow season at the shop. Our family-filled town has quieted with school closures and travel. I sense internal resistance, my propensity toward productivity craving signs of growth. But I observe the oaks and the recently planted natives beneath, remember the arborist diagnosing the tree and me all the same. Welcome the pause, the rest. Seasons of growth require it.
And our tree? She’s doing great.
Laying dormant,
Pat
