A Tribute to a Tree - Part 2

First Post of the Day

My children love Morainewood, my childhood home on the Wabash. They have so many memories wrapped up there, visiting Apple Jack and Granny Slash, the big swing tucked back in the woods that Apple Jack hung from an ancient tree, sledding down the moraine, poking around on the shores of the Wabash, and more.

So, it's not really a surprise that Lisa drops by the property every now and then. She likes to walk around and spend some quiet time with her memories.

The witness tree, that venerable old oak, came crashing down during some high winds earlier this summer and Lisa took some photos for me when she last visited.

It smashed into the trees ringing the clearing 

and did a lot of damage to them.

The damage from the fungus was evident at its roots - see that hole where the fungus has been eating inside the tree?

The root system that came out of the ground was taller than Lisa (she's 5'8".) Massive roots for a massive and very old tree.

A second tree nearby also sustained damage from those winds.

Part of its top split off and toppled down next to the old oak.

When we lived in the house, it was a constant worry that "some day" the oak would come down and maybe even hit the house. It did once lose a large branch that came through the roof over the living room, but that was the only incident in the 50 years that Morainewood was our family home.

There is no longer a home for the tree to land on

and the giant oak is now resting on the ground. 

Since the land is being returned to nature, I hope the tree is left where it is lying so it can complete its life cycle in the way in which nature intends it to do.

Stay 'tooned.

A Tribute to a Tree - Part One

When we moved into our home on the Wabash in 1970, my Grandpa Honeywell, a Horticulturist at Purdue, told us that the oak tree at the base of the home was around 250 - 300 years old. 

It was a true witness tree - old enough to have seen William Henry Harrison coming up the Wabash for the Battle of Tippecanoe and who knows how many other historic events.

The tree "witnessing" Thanksgiving, 1970 as I showed my Honeywell grandparents my horse Amy.

When the house was built in the 1960s, the tree was saved and it stood sentinel at the top of the driveway where the basement garage opened out.

By 2012 its massive trunk was covered with vines. Worse, it had a parasitic fungus that showed up that August. I can't remember the name of it, but I did some research and learned that it was eating the tree from the inside out, a sign that the tree was in its end stage of life.

Every August I began checking the tree, and sure enough, the fungus would manifest itself, and then wither and decay only to reappear again the following August. This photo was taken in 2014 with the Coke can for perspective.

August after August, that proof of the oak tree's inner battle and harbinger of the tree's demise would pop up for a week or so, then decay and disappear.

The oak in 2017.

Earlier this spring, my old home was razed and the grounds are now in a restoration phase of returning to nature.

It was a relief and a surprise to see that the tree had not been removed or damaged by the demolition.

It hurt to see the home gone, but that tree still stood, continuing to witness the history around it. For me, it was the last remnant of my home and I found it comforting that the oak remained.

Inside the tree, though, its own life's clock was ticking and drawing to a close.

Stay 'tooned.