Grandpa Oak is huge. We call him Grandpa Oak because that is his name. All of us, the women on this property (us mountain folk tend to be a bit clannish), knew to call him by that name.
His identity as Grandpa Oak predates my pagan path. He always has been and did not require my belief to let me know exactly who he is.
He towers over my house and all other trees. He is estimated at 300+ years.
He's lived through two world wars. He survived the depression. It is possible he sheltered settlers who fled from Appalachia.
Generations of squirrels and birds have made their homes in his branches.
Storms, frosts, droughts. He's seen it all.
Some of the medicine he has taught and continues to teach me is that things...have a way of continuing on, and adaptation varies in appearance.
Grandpa Oak has adapted by bonding with plant allys. He works closest with Greenbriar, who protects him from animals and debris. I am waiting to learn the secrets of their bond.
But if you know anything about Oaks, it is that they work on their own schedule. Patience is key.
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