Trees are smart and strong in slow, subtle ways. They send their branches where there is sun, and they send their roots into the flower beds for water. If they could repel an axe, they would rule the world.
A live oak grows on the north side of our house, and for years we had to get the branches trimmed back from the roof because it put all its energy into growing toward the south. It had competition from two other live oaks, both growing in neighbors' yards, one to the northeast and one to the northwest. Then in 2004, three of the big storms came through Gainesville. The northwest live oak lost a big branch that fell into our back yard, and it knocked one of our linden oaks so hard that it had to be taken down too. Next the northeast live oak's roots couldn't hold the waterlogged ground, and it came down altogether, again falling into our yard, across the driveway. It grazed our live oak, taking off some bark, then fell with its branches delicately missing all the coonties and camellias I had planted in the shade. It also missed my husband. He had just pulled into the driveway and parked his car. He was about to get out of the car when he noticed a shower of raindrops on his windshield. He thought it was starting to rain again, and then he saw the tree. It was not rain but water from the leaves of the oak as it fell right where he had just come up the driveway a few seconds before. If our oak tree had not deflected its fall, the northeast oak would have fallen on the parking area as well as the driveway.
Since that year, I have watched as the tree healed its bark and put more energy into growing toward the opening in the canopy. Even more remarkable, we no longer need to have the branches over the roof trimmed. The tree is balancing itself. I can't imagine the strength required of the wood of its branches in order for it to reach for the light, but I am grateful for that strength, since it grows right over our bedroom, and I hope it will thrive for many years to come.
