One log down, 5 (hopefully) to go. He’s a little concerned the largest log is too big, so the current plan is to trim off the sides so it hopefully fits
All done! We (well, the sawmill operator) decided not to mill the big log. Mostly because it would have taken at least another two hours.
One log down, 5 (hopefully) to go. He’s a little concerned the largest log is too big, so the current plan is to trim off the sides so it hopefully fits
This Plant # 7 (aka Our Big Old Valley Oak) (by flora-file)
Valley Oak - Quercus lobata
One of the very first things anyone notices in our backyard is the oak tree, which is far larger than our little house. It is a deciduous oak, so it lets in lots of light in the winter, and shades out the heat in the summer. During the summer its lobed leaves let in dappled light that is perfect for many California native plants. Of course, it drops about 30 cubic yards of leaves every fall, and every two or three years a gazillion acorns, which is all fine and good until I’m trying to wheel a 500 lb green waste can filled with 10,000 acorns to the curbside.
Our house was built in 1950, which is when most of the smaller trees in this top photo were planted. The oak tree on the other hand takes up a large portion of our backyard and part of our neighbor’s, and it must be at least 200 years old. These older Oak trees only grow where there is a nearby source of water, and we do live along an aquifer that carries water to the SF Bay Delta from nearby Mt Diablo. Our proximity to the aquifer actually means our house is in a flood zone. I’m not sure what intricacy of fate saved this tree from being cut down at some point in the past as folks started paving over most parts of this neighborhood, but now it stands as a stoic survivor from a previous, unpaved era. When I think how the world has changed in the time this Oak Tree has been growing here, it puts things into a whole different perspective.
We had to get this tree trimmed recently, and had numerous arborists come by and give us quotes. Every one of them told us how healthy our tree was, what an awesome, amazing, huge, old tree we had. It’s interesting that everyone referred to it as our tree orour valley oak. The fact that anyone can try to claim provenance over such ancient organism seems more and more ludicrous to me the more I think about it. Really this is the oak tree’s property. We are just passing through.
I’ve drive along Latrobe Road through El Dorado and Amador Counties and have always imagined how beautiful it would be to hike back away from the road. And this past summer I finally learned that it was truly possible. The El Dorado Trail is about 30 miles long and runs from the county line all the way up to Placerville. Truly a gold country blessing. While it can be a little hard to find, once on the trail it is a journey of walking along the hills under oak trees and among grass. We only hiked seven miles round trip but there was so much to explore from seeing lots of cows to walking along the rail road tracks, visiting this part of gold country was a real treat.
The middle of autumn in gold country is not necessarily very colorful in appearance. At Folsom Lake the water is low, the trees are barley green, and the grass is light brown. I went on a new hike this week from Red Bank to Brown’s Ravine which went along the southwestern part of the lake. Early in the morning, the sun was peaking through the oak and pine trees along this trail. The deer, squirrels, and birds were busy with the morning work. Winter is starting to approach at the lake and I am excited to continue exploring new parts in gold country in the upcoming months.
