My wife Carol and I bought our first house, the one we currently live in, in November of 2002. Our home sits at the end of a cul-du-sac in a quiet neighborhood on the northwestern edge of Santa Rosa, CA. On one side of our front yard is a thick row of hedges. They’re about ten feet high and give us complete privacy from the neighbors. These hedges are also the home to various nesting birds in the spring and provide shade in the hot summer months.

A couple of years after we moved in, I came home from work one afternoon and noticed a tiny oak tree peeking out from the hedges. This tree was perhaps five feet tall and only a couple of inches around. It was trying to escape the darkness of the hedgerow so it was growing at a weird angle, almost perpendicular to the ground, its tiny branches reaching bravely towards the sun. I immediately fell in love with this little tree. I thought it was so cool, the randomness of it all that this tree had managed to survive long enough to grow out of the hedges and show itself to me. I was seeing one of the wonders of nature in action right here in my own yard. 

Seeds spread in many ways. Some hitch a ride on the fur of an animal or at the bottom of a shoe. Some drift down a river or sail across the ocean. Others are carried by the wind. Still others are pooped out by animals. Eventually a few of these seeds land, take root and grow. This is how a forest begins. The acorn that spawned our tree was most likely carried here, buried and forgotten by a squirrel.

The first thing I did was to drive a metal fencepost into the ground beside the tree. I pulled the tree as straight up as I could and secured it to the post and cut away some of the surrounding hedges to allow more sunlight in. That was it. I figured if this tree was strong enough to survive to this point, it didn’t need much more in the way of help from me.

As I write this our little tree isn’t so little anymore. The circumference at its base is 40 inches. I estimate it to be around 20 years old. About ten feet up from the ground the tree starts to branch, with one thick limb growing out from each side of the trunk. Another seven or eight feet up and it branches again, this time in a “v”. The branching continues, with limbs getting progressively thinner until the tree tops out, its spindly fingers touching the sky at around 35 feet. 

It’s winter now, the tree is bare except for a few oak galls that cling stubbornly to the branches. I love watching the seasons change through our oak. The first tiny shoots of spring give way to the verdant leaves of summer. This tree is so tall and broad now that when fully leafed out, it shades our entire front yard. The foliage is thick enough to offer birds sufficient cover to build their nests in. Flocks of bushtits move through the tree, foraging for food. Downy and Hairy woodpeckers can be seen drilling its bark for insects. Our resident Black Phoebe uses its branches as a taking off point for its hunting forays. Cedar Waxwings, Ruby Crowned Kinglets, titmice, scrub jays and mockingbirds can all be found at one time or another in its branches. I often see the Hooded Oriole, a spring and summer resident, sitting in the uppermost branches, its flaming orange breast and jet black crown catching the first rays of the rising sun. In autumn enough leaves fall for me to rake a respectable pile. I’m tempted to behave like a five year old and dive right in. Of course there are acorns, many of them. They litter our lawn, driveway and the sidewalk in front of our house. They’re a bit of a hassle to deal with but I don’t mind. Our yard has become a favorite gathering place for squirrels. Which brings me to this morning.

As I was planting bulbs in the flower beds underneath our front window,  I noticed several small plants that had just barely broken through the soil. Their stems were pale red and covered with tiny, very fine hairs. Atop each plant were four tiny pale green leaves. I dug down with my spade and saw that each of these shoots was connected to…an acorn! Clearly this was a good place for our oak tree to start a family. There was something about these tiny trees that put a smile on my face and filled me with hope. Perhaps it was seeing first hand the miracle and beauty of new life, of rebirth. If an acorn can survive being eaten by animals or getting stomped on by humans long enough to grow into a majestic oak tree like ours, then anything seemed possible. 

We are living in angry and uncertain times, I don’t  need to tell you that. As author Kurt Vonnegut once said, the world situation is “desperate as usual.” One of the most distressing things I see is people losing hope; hope for themselves, hope for the future. Well, I refuse to give up hope. I firmly believe that love is stronger than hate, hope more powerful than despair. I also believe that we can find a way out of the mess the world currently finds itself in. How about we start right now, one acorn at a time.