Living Amongst the California Oaks

I was born in the land of Oaks. Oak Land. I've always had an affinity with Oak trees for as long as I can remember. Sometime I feel like the Oaks are my ancestors. Recently, I attended a wedding up in Los Gatos. Driving north from Los Angeles, we cut over on Highway 152. Although I have lived in California my entire life, I had never taken this route. 

It was a real pleasure to discover yet another lovely path in our country size state, that was lined with our mighty Oaks. As we wove our way through the valley, I was in awe of the great swaths of Oak woodlands dotting the hillsides, congregating in gullies or standing majestically in solitude surrounded by dry bunch grass at their feet. I felt like I was home...

I've always marveled at the many different types of Oak trees I have seen throughout California. I know my evergreen Canyon and Coastal Live Oaks but identifying the 20 other native species takes a specialist! A few of my favorites are the Valley Oaks, which are the largest of the species, as well as Blue Oak and the California Black Oaks, which tend to live at the Sierra foothills.

Time seems to stop when I'm around Oak trees. Perhaps they remind me of an era gone buy. I can hear in Bret Harte's literature, the sound of the breeze rustling through their leaves. I'm sure Mark Twain was influenced by their majestic beauty and set many of his stories amongst their limbs. 

Many of these long-standing trees might have even caught a glimpse of these great writers as they wound their way around California digging not for gold but for stories. The oldest Oak tree in California and possibly the world, is the Pechanga Great Oak Tree. It is is over two thousand years old!

I primarily grew up around Inland Canyon and Interior Live Oaks. The photographs that illustrate this blog are from a shoot I did up on top of the island mountain of Mount Diablo and are good examples of these types of Oaks. Each tree has its own characteristics and make for great subject matter. With their curving limbs bowing down to the ground in a variation of poses, I'm sure to catch a different look in every tree. The branches of some Oaks remind me of lightning rods frozen in bark. All are imposing and majestic. I could sit for hours underneath their canopy and would fee at peace.

The parasitic Pacific mistletoe (Phoradendron villosum) grows on most of the Oaks I grew up with. Their distinctive shapes hanging down, coupled with the lightning bolt formations of the oak branches, always gave an eire feeling when walking amongst a stand of Oaks. Although it was set in New York, I would be surprised to see Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman galloping through the Oaks!

Oak flowers called catkins hang from their branches. The drooping cluster of flowering buds are actually future acorns. The wind helps to pollinate these flowers, carrying the pollen to the flower. They almost remind me of the bracket of flower pods that protrude from palm trees. 

The indigenous people of California lived off of acorn meal. It was a staple of their diet. I have never actually tasted acorn meal but would love to try it. I have found many recipes and would love to try to it. It is not sold in the stores but I have found acorn starch in Korean markets but I have heard it is not the same as American acorn meal.  I would have to leach the tannins and from looking at the process, would take quite a bit of time to create. 

I'm facinated when Oak and Pine trees wrap their roots around rocks. I have sketched out and photographed many these root systems hugging the rocks on top of Mount Diablo in the Northern California and Mount Wilson in Southern California. I have them in my back pocket for when I am ready to render these images in clay. I have a feeling that rendering this natural symbiosis in this medium would hit just the right note.

The deep tap root system of the Oak is the basis of their longevity, allowing them to be adaptable to dry spells. Oaks are like humans, vigorous in youth but as they age, becomes less tolerant to change. I feel very fortunate to have grown up around these might giants and will continue to be in awe of their beauty. The symbology of their strength and grace is wisdom they impart to those who stop and listen to what they have to say.

Julie Pavlowski Green
July 13, 2013