The Oak Papers
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- $11.99
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- $11.99
Publisher Description
Oaks are born and die on the same patch of earth. It is that sure-footedness that is so appealing. Ancient oaks hold a powerful sense of the longevity of life. The sense of security, of attachment to place, enchants us. You can stand beneath a grand oak and know that your more distant ancestors did so too.
This is the story of one man’s relationship to an ancient tree, the Honywood Oak. Colossal and wizened, it would have been a sapling when the Magna Carta was signed in 1215.
James Canton spent two years sitting with and studying this unique tree. It was an exercise in discipline: he needed to slow down in order to appreciate it fully, to tune in to it, to connect with the ecosystem that lives around, inside and under it.
In this stunning, meditative treatise, he examines our long-standing relationship with trees, a material as well as a source of myth and legend, and of solace. We no longer build our houses from the sturdy oak and its relatives, use them to fuel our fires or grind their seeds and nuts into flour in times of famine. Physically, we don’t need them. Or do we? The natural world has lessons for us – if we slow down enough to listen.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Canton (Ancient Wonderings), who runs the Wild Writing MA program at the University of Essex, pays homage to "a venerable oak tree, eight hundred years old, living on the edge of a wood on a small country estate a few miles from house" in this elegiac account. Sitting beside the Honywood Oak in north Essex, England, "in all weathers and all seasons, at all times of day and night," Canton becomes well-acquainted with the tree's curves and contours, and the wildlife that lives in and around it. Many of Canton's observations are captured in journal entries: "8 February. The snow has gone. The sunlight drowns the green of the conifers. There is birdsong and signs of life." Along the way, Canton offers a broad look at oak trees in general and their place in human history: their wood was used for fire, for example, their trunks were used to build homes, and their acorns gathered, stored, and eaten. Canton movingly maintains a humble sense of perspective: no matter his own worries, existential crises, or accomplishments, he understands they pale in comparison to all that the oak tree has endured and provided through centuries. Nature-lovers will find Canton's poetic tribute to be a treat.
