Trees have much to teach us, if only we’ll pay attention. They are fascinating plants in their own right, living longer than just about anything else. During our years in New Jersey we made pilgrimages to two ancient trees in that state: the Basking Ridge White Oak (unfortunately cut down in 2017), and the Great Swamp Oak in Lord Stirling Park, also in Basking Ridge. Naturally enough, then, when in Charleston last month we had to visit Angel Oak. Our Charleston visit was not a solo venture, therefore our timing was somewhat off. Our flight to South Carolina was delayed by about three hours, cancelling our plans for that Saturday afternoon, one of which was to see Angel Oak. When we arrived at the oak on Sunday we discovered the venerable tree had visiting hours that started after we had an engagement on Sullivan’s Island. We had to see it through a fence. (In our defense, several others arrived at around that time, equally surprised to learn they couldn’t get in.)
Regardless, there’s something awe-inspiring about being next to a being four-or-five-hundred years old. Unlike its departed cousin, the Basking Ridge White Oak, Angel Oak is of the live oak variety. (Live oak is the rather awkward name for a type of oak tree, not necessarily a designation that the tree is alive. People sometimes have strange ideas about naming things.) Like many ancient things, folklore has accumulated around this tree. Although the name derives from former estate owners, lore has it that ghosts of slaves appear at the tree in the form of angels. Folklore has a way of saying something important in this materialistic era. There can be something spiritual about trees.
Although we had only a few minutes outside the fence to appreciate what we were seeing on John’s Island, the experience is one that sticks. One of the most hopeful things a person can do is plant a tree. Back at Nashotah House I planted an apple tree that I’d grown from a seed. I planted it the year my father died (2003) and I often wonder if it’s still there. After buying our first house we planted a scarlet oak. A local nursery indicated that oaks help the environment by providing the habitat for the highest number of species here in Pennsylvania. We used A Tree to Remember after my mother’s passing to plant a memorial. (Other trees I’ve planted have been snipped off by squirrels before they can live on their own.) Although outside the fence, I reached up and touched some of the outer leaves of Angel Oak and connected, if only for a moment, with something great.