The Dorrell Oak

Eight years ago, I planted an acorn in a pot. It germinated, and in the first year, produced just two leaves. Three years later, I planted the little seedling oak tree, which now had several leaves, in what I judged to be a safe place for an oak tree to grow to maturity within the garden area of Roskhill Barn, just above the river gorge, and close to a few existing mature sycamore and beech trees. On windy Skye, trees growing together in this way give each other some protection from the winter storms. I think my little tree is now doing well enough to introduce it to the world.

But first, a little slightly off-topic history -

In May 1935, my Great Grandfather, James Dorrell, being the oldest resident of his village at the time, was given the honour of planting a tree in commemoration of the Silver Jubilee of King George V and Queen Mary. Watched by the entire village, a tree was planted by James on the edge of the green in the tiny village of The Lee, near Wendover in Buckinghamshire. No plaque was ever erected to mark the significance of the tree, and although as far as I am aware, the tree is still there – no-one is likely to be aware of its significance. Here is Great grandfather James at the tree-planting ...

James Dorrell, The Lee, Buckinghamshire

Planting the Jubilee tree

Now maybe it is because of this little bit of my heritage, or maybe it is because when once asked, “If you could come back to earth after death, what would you come back as”? I decided I would like to be a tree... But I also like the idea of planting trees. I’ve planted a few here and at our other cottages, but the Dorrell Oak, I hope, will become ‘special’.

Providing my little tree continues to flourish as it has done thus far, I have decided that when my time comes, I would like my ashes to be scattered beneath my little oak, so that its roots may take up just a tiny bit of me, and I will indeed then be back on earth as a tree. I will also make a request in my will that a plaque be erected by the tree to give its date of planting, and by whom.

Who knows – my tree could still be there in 500 years time. It’s a nice thought!

Coming into leaf, spring 2019 - The leaves are quite yellow as they open.
The sticks are there to remind me not to strim too close!

In context - the tree has a lot of growing to do!