c h a r l e s t o n
a n g e l | o a k
j u l y |2 0 0 8
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c h a r l e s t o n a n g e l | o a k j u l y |2 0 0 8 |
| nine hundred years before christopher columbus landed the santa maria on the bahamas archipelago, an acorn germinated and became the angel oak. now, 1400 years later, growing on johns island ten miles southwest of downtown charleston, south carolina is the largest tree this side of the mississippi. to walk beneath this awesome tree is to enter God’s living room. it is a space scented by the crisp brown leaf layer that carpets the ground. it is to bask in the yellow green glow of light filtered by a million leaves. it is to ponder just how much life is lived inside the arms of this created living thing. one can try to follow the fractal patterns of the branches down to the twig and leaf, but it can not be done. there are too many. too much mass for my mind to grasp. the symmetry, the flowing rivers of woods, the gravity of the trunk draws me to touch the tree. to make a connection. but it is difficult. i can only admire and wonder at the glory and power reflected in its majesty by its Creator. this angel oak never stops growing in an eternal push into the heavens that has spanned 56 generations of mankind. the wood of this tree has been coveted by nations for shipbuilding, as it is supremely resistant to rot, decay, and corruption. in the dead of winter it is verdant and alive, a symbol of immortality and eternality. rooted in the earth with arms reaching the heavens, it is like a bridge from God to mankind. and man could use a merciful bridge. | |