Last year around Thanksgiving, I devoted this column to all the wonderful experiences I’ve had in nature, mostly in faraway places, expressing gratitude for each one. This year, I am being thankful for the nature I find close to home.
During a recent walk along the outskirts of Lakewood Forest Preserve, I encountered robins and goldfinches taking baths in a little puddle of water on a trail. Some went immediately to the front of the line to wet their feathers, while others waited tentatively in the wing — so to speak — for their chance to get into the water. Water is a precious commodity for wildlife in winter, and much more difficult to find than in spring.
Robins hang around in winter where there are plentiful berries. There were none nearby, so I presume they just needed a bath and then flew off to find food elsewhere. I’m always thankful to see robins in winter, and to hear the melodious “per-chickory” calls the goldfinches give year-round.
Also vocalizing at the preserve was a barred owl. Not as common as the great horned owl in northern Illinois, the barred owl still can be found if you know where to go. What’s fun about these owls is that will they call during the day as well as at night. They project loud phrases that sound like “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?”
If a pair reunites in the woods, they may start giving their crazy monkey calls. Their duet makes you think you’re deep in the jungle listening to mammals not owls, and not very sane mammals at that. Their calls entrance me, and I feel lucky to be able to hear them so close to home.
At the same location, we encountered a forest preserve volunteer named Steve who was entering a gated area to remove some invasive species. He had permission to venture past the gate and offered to show us what was likely one of the oldest bur oak trees in Lake County.
Measurements he took, along with discussions he’s had with botanists, estimate this tree is at least 300 years old. It was likely growing as a twig around the time that George Washington was born in 1732, even before our first American president had come to start a new nation from his England home.
A short walk past some pesky non-native buckthorns took us to the majestic object of nature.
The oak had lost all its leaves to prepare for winter, enabling us to see its furrowed, weathered bark from which sprung many tentacle-like branches. Against the cloudy sky, it looked like a giant sea anemone. Closer up, I could see many large burls or round knobs on the tree bark. Experts can’t say for sure what causes the tree burls to grow, but many believe the burl forms when stresses such as insect infestation and injury disrupt a tree’s growth hormones leading to abnormal cell development.
The bur oak tree wore the burls proudly, like an old man with wrinkles eager to declare his age and talk about his many past experiences.
If it could talk, the old oak would have plenty of stories, too, on how it survived for three centuries despite the creation of agricultural lands around it, on who might have climbed it a couple of centuries ago, and how today it would be much more difficult to hoist oneself up to sit in a cradling branch of this aging tree.
A squirrel could easily climb the tree, of course, and a nest of decaying leaves rested atop one of the highest limbs. Oak trees are long-lived, but they do not live forever. Bur oaks commonly get to be 200 to 300 years old, and you can find other old bur oaks in many parts of northern Illinois, including at Oak Openings in Libertyville, other forest preserves and even in some old neighborhoods.
Some bur oaks may live to be 400, and truly we did not know the exact age of this tree. Steve, our new nature-loving friend, didn’t think this particular one would make it through even the middle of this century. He’s seen it in the summer, and noted that parts of it are dying. I was grateful to see it in all its winter splendor, before it succumbed to old age.
There are many oaks in this part of the state that are older than those at Shawnee National Forest in southern Illinois. You can find them at Oak Openings in Libertyville, St. Francis Woods in Libertyville, West Chicago Prairie, the towns of Oak Park and River Forest, Union Ridge Cemetery in Chicago and many others.
I urge you to go find a big oak tree near your home, be grateful it is alive, and imagine what stories it could tell.
Sheryl DeVore has worked as a full-time and freelance reporter, editor and photographer for the Chicago Tribune and its subsidiaries. She’s the author of several books on nature and the environment. Send story ideas and thoughts to sheryldevorewriter@gmail.com.
