"This oak tree and me, we're made of the same stuff" ~ Carl Sagan

When I was a little girl growing up on the island of Cyprus, we used to rent a house that was located on the outskirts of a village in the foothills of the Troodos Mountains. Going there was a necessary reprieve during the summer months, as the capital city where we lived got baked by the summer sun.  

   We rented a round tower house in a little village that overlooked a lovely valley. The house was surrounded by fruit orchards, and we often woke up to find buckets of red plums  and peaches in our front porch left for us by our kind neighbors. 

   As an only child whose parents worked every day, all day, I quickly learned how to entertain myself. I spent hours of my time collecting things from nature for craft projects. I painted rocks, and made mobiles using dried grass straws and hand made little grass birds. I loved making acorn people the best. My people had acorn bodies, acorn cap hats, twig limbs, and painted eyes and mouths. I loved my acorn people and gave them away as gifts. 

   The trees they came from were Mediterranean oaks, which are relatively small, scrubby trees. I was therefore shocked when I came to Ashland where I met our soaring, glorious, local oaks (Quercus garryana or Oregon White Oak) for the first time. Oh my friends, I feel in love with these trees. 

   A good portion of our ten acre farm consists of open fields which get dry in summer. These spaces are both unappealing in appearance and a wildfire hazard. Eager to add more green to the farm I decided to plant local oaks. I collected acorns last fall, went through the process of finding out which of them were viable, and then planted them in pots made of paper fiber. Then I eagerly waited to see what would

happen. Out of nine pots I carefully tended two precious little trees emerged this spring. 

   Today I found a wee tree on the verge of the road and was able to safely remove it, tap root and all. Then I got some more volunteer babies in another location that I carefully dug up. 

   Some had healthy roots and even still had acorns attached to them. These I planted in more paper fiber pots. Others need to grow some more roots before I can plant them, so I placed them in water-filled glass vessels with growth hormone added to the water. This experiment might not work, but it is worth a try.   

  I adore our local oak trees. They play such a vital role in our local environment. The jays cache the acorns in the fall and then find them during the lean months. The tree and ground squirrels do the same, though they aren’t as good at remembering where their caches are. Unlike squirrels, jays have remarkably accurate food cache maps in their heads. The leaves that the trees lose during fall provide a home for all kinds of creatures during the colder months. The trees themselves provide countless living beings with food and a home. They are a marvel, as all trees are. 

  My hope is to fill in the many open areas on our farm with these lovely trees. They will bring more green to the farm, more homes and food sources for birds, insects, and small mammals, and they will make my heart happy. 

Art by Lorrinda Benevides