ABC Wednesday: Quite a Quercus

This week we have come to the letter Q, not an easy letter to illustrate. Once I thought about it, though, the choice was obvious, and I was so eager to post my entry for Q that I almost posted this last week by mistake. And so, the eagerly awaited Q is for . . .

Quercus Macrocarpa

. . .Otherwise known as the Bur Oak. Regular readers here will recognize this tree as one I've shown on this blog several times, including this past August when, on a lark, I entered it in the "Gardening Olympics" sponsored by Idaho Gardener. To my surprise, it won a gold medal! Medalwinner or not, this is indeed a stately tree that sits at the front of our large yard, shading those who enter our driveway. Its age is unknown, but judging from its size it must be over 100 years old, making it a symbol of the permanence of the land, existing generations before us.


Until recently, I wasn't sure what type of oak it was--I thought it might be a white oak, the state tree of Illinois. But with the help of my friend, a high school biology teacher, I now know that it is a Bur Oak. In trying to identify the trees on our property, I've discovered that studying the leaves alone is not conclusive--you must often also look at the bark, the shape of the twig, and the fruit of the tree.


The Bur Oak's leaves are distinctive from other oaks, with a wide top that narrows at the bottom. But this can still be confusing. The telltale identifier of the Bur Oak, though, is its acorn. The acorn is larger than most other oaks, and its cap extends at least halfway down with a "conspicuous fringe," which accounts for its other name, Mossycup Oak.

According to Wikipedia:

"The acorns are the largest of any North American oak, and are an important wildlife food; American Black Bears sometimes tear off branches to get them. However, heavy nut crops are borne only every few years. In this strategy, known as masting, the large seed crop every few years overwhelms the ability of seed predators to eat the acorns, thus ensuring the survival of some seeds. Other wildlife, such as deer and porcupine, eat the leaves, twigs and bark. Cattle are heavy browsers in some areas. The bur oak is the only known foodplant of Bucculatrix recognita caterpillars."

This must be the year for the large seed crop because it is impossible to walk anywhere in the vicinity of my oak without crunching on hundreds of acorns underfoot. As you can see, some type of wildlife has been eating a few of the acorns--I do hope it's squirrels, though, and not black bears!

The Bur Oak is a common tree in the Midwest, extending as far west as the Rockies and even as far south as Texas. It is billed as an excellent tree for urban planting because of its dense shade and resistance to air pollution and heat stress. Of course, it's not a tree you would plant for immediate shade--it is one of the slowest growing trees. But it makes up for this in size and in longevity. The Bur Oak can grow as tall as 70-80 feet, and as it ages it spreads horizontally, with a possible canopy of 80 feet or more in width. I have no idea how tall my tree is, but I did measure its circumference 4 feet above its base--it is about 17 feet around, give or take a few inches due to my tripping on the acorns underfoot. Because it can live for 200-300 years or more, it is a tree to plant for posterity.

This oak is not as showy in the fall as some of its more colorful relatives like the Pin Oak or the Red Oak. But as I showed on last week's post, it did surprise me this year with its bronze foliage. And while my showy maple is slowly losing all its leaves, many of the oak leaves are clinging tenaciously to their branches. They may be the last leaves to fall this autumn.

I was excited when I learned my tree was a Bur Oak, because near the place where I grew up there is a small area of virgin woods that we called the Bur Oak. At one time a nearby one-room schoolhouse was named Bur Oak after these woods. I like to imagine my ancestors seeing these magnificent trees when they settled in the area in the 1870's. The Bur Oaks may have been old trees even then! But after I googled Bur Oak, I discovered we don't own the copyright to this name, sometimes spelled Burr Oak. There are towns in Kansas and Michigan called Bur Oak, not to mention schools, parks, and even bed and breakfasts. Other settlers, including the pioneers heading West, found the Bur Oak a useful tree not only for shade, but for its extremely strong wood. According to the Arbor Day Foundation, the tree "came to the rescue of unfortunate travelers who needed new wagon tongues, wheels hubs, or spokes." Another interesting bit of trivia from the same site is that Sioux City, Iowa is the "location of the Council Oak, so named because Lewis and Clark held council with the Native Americans under its already 150 year old branches."

I may not be able to claim the Quercus Macrocarpa as unique to Illinois--in fact, it is the state tree of Iowa--but I can admire its rich heritage and its quiet beauty. It has earned the name "Mighty Oak."

For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider,
every green tree is far more glorious
than if it were made of gold and silver.
--Martin Luther

ABC Wednesday is brought to you by Mrs. Nesbitt; other posts can be found at the ABC Anthology.

Growing Green

Emma Townshend at IndyBlogs has challenged gardening bloggers everywhere to show their green today, that is to look beyond all the showy blossoms blooming in our gardens right now to take a closer look at the most important color of all. I hadn't planned on doing a post today, but after looking at several green posts, I decided to join in the fun. That means no long-winded storyline today, just lots of photos of what is going green in my garden.

Taking a quick look around the garden this morning to capture a few photos in ten minutes, I realized the main flowerbed, the first planting I did when we moved here, is a riot of color. I think I went for "show" when I planned this bed. Instead I had to look to my containers and shade garden for some green. I seem to have gone for more foliage in my plantings this year--maybe that is a sign of my growth as a gardener? This first photo is of one of my favorites for containers, Persian Shield. It isn't even green, obviously, but the purple foliage is a nice counterpoint to the showy pink petunias and geraniums in several pots.

Coleus is one of those old-fashioned plants that I wasn't that fond of a few years ago, but growers have been coming up with some spectacular varieties in recent years. The introduction of the Kong series made me re-think coleus, and I usually include one in a couple containers.

This year, though, I saw so many new varieties of coleus that weren't even "Kongs," that I could have bought one of almost every kind I saw. I restrained myself, though, and just bought this "Glennis."

I don't think knowing the specific name even matters--just pick the one that strikes you! Next year I think there will be many more coleus here, not just in containers, but in the shade garden as well.

I love the showy foliage of caladiums, and I planted several bulbs in my shade garden, but I haven't seen any life from any of them. I think they may have gotten drowned when we had the torrential rains at the beginning of June. I consoled myself by buying one plant and putting it in a container.

An old standby for containers for the "spiller" effect is the sweet potato vine. This one is "Marguerite," and I have three of them in different places. I'm not sure what to call this color, but it is a lighter, brighter green than so many other plants and really creates a striking focal point for containers.

I have planted a couple of the darker, nearly black ipomoeas before, but decided I really didn't care for them. But this year when I saw this "Bewitched," I was won over by its shiny, velvety leaves. It really doesn't show up very well in this photo, but trust me, this is much prettier than "Blackie" or other dark sweet potato vines.

But this one--now, this one is a real beauty! It's called "Tricolor Impomoea batatas." (If you're impressed I know the names, it's because this year I actually saved all my tags!) Notice the young leaves begin as a dark pink and then mature to a variegated green with pink tinges on the edges.

Moving on to the shade garden area, there is a lot of green here, especially since hostas are the main planting in this area. But if you ignore the lovely pink blooms of the "Endless Summer" hydrangeas (supposed to be blue, but of course I always forget to add some acidic food until after they've started blooming), you'll see even the leaves are quite lovely.

I hope to eventually have a lot of ferns in this area, but the small bare-root plants I ordered from a mail-order company last fall didn't make it through the winter. So this Japanese painted fern is a bit lonely.

The lamium, "Silver Beacon," I think, is a plant I've shown before. It is growing profusely through the shade garden--a word of caution if you've never grown it before: plant it where you want something to spread.

Heucheras have certainly grown in popularity the last few years, and I'm becoming a big fan. This is a new acquisition this spring, "Dolce Creme Brulee." Not a very good picture--it actually has more of a bronze tint--but it was hiding behind some other plantings in a container. It will be moved to the shade garden this fall.

The "Plum Puddings" I bought on a whim and planted last fall are doing very well.

I've mentioned before that I expanded my small shade garden last fall, nearly doubling its size. It's a work in progress with lots of empty spaces yet--the plant budget got shot before I got to this area. I did buy some inexpensive hostas from a mail-order company last year, including a "grab bag" of unnamed varieties. They're all doing quite well, but as to be expected they're still quite small.

But here's the show-stopper of the shady ladies--my Sum and Substance hosta. This one, I think, is only four years old and has really taken off this year--must have been all that rain this spring. I didn't get out a tape measure, but just "eyeballing" it, the leaves are about 10-12 inches wide! Next spring I'm going to have to move everything next to it to give it some more room to grow.

But the best green of all is nothing I've planted. This magnificent old oak tree stands as a sentinel at the front of our yard. At one time there were several large trees on the property but many of them succumbed to lightning and storms. This one, though, has survived, living for generations before me, and I hope it will stand for many generations to come.

Well, it's been fun looking at the garden with a different perspective! Unfortunately, I've spent my usual blog-reading time doing this post instead, so I apologize--I will try to visit everyone tonight. Despite some nice rainshowers this weekend, there is still a lot of watering to do or I will have nothing green left!

For other "green" posts, be sure to check out Emma's blog.