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We who live among trees tend to take them for granted — or are affronted when storms blow them down, as happened in the Twin Cities in late August.
I have had a love affair with bur oak trees that started when I grew up on a small farm in northern Minnesota in the 1950s. If you don’t know what a bur oak is, take a drive along West River Road south of the Lake Street Bridge in Minneapolis. It is lined with gorgeous old bur oaks. They are well known in rural Minnesota, since they are found in every county. They can live more than 300 years.
Bur oaks are common on our farm in northwestern Minnesota, including next to our house. When I was young, I fell asleep to the sound of wind flowing through their branches and leaves outside my open window; sounds words can’t describe. It is the same now. Twenty-five years ago, we put bur oak wainscoting that we harvested from fallen bur oaks in our living room.
I am a wildlife biologist. My love of bur oaks expanded in college and later in my career. I learned its scientific name: Quercus macrocarpa, one of my favorite Latin phrases. Several years ago, a small tornado toppled a large bur oak on our neighbor’s farm. We counted the annual growth rings. We discovered it was a sapling that began growing in about 1842, not long after Fort Snelling was founded by Europeans.
The recent violent thunderstorms and high winds blew down many trees in the Twin Cities. I drove down both East and West River Roads along the Mississippi River the next morning, worried about the trees, especially the bur oaks. I marveled at how few of the bur oaks had been damaged.
Many trees have specific adaptations for surviving in dry ground or wetter ground. Bur oaks are unusual — they can survive both wet and dry conditions. In fact, they can even survive being flooded during the growing season. This is uncharacteristic of upland trees.