The Oak cont.
The morning after the marathon dig, I awoke with a stiff neck and pounding headache. The result, no doubt, of spending what seemed like hours on my knees, with my head and shoulders bent over a muddy hole as I tried to convince a stubborn young oak tree that it was time to change residence.
Said oak tree was now reclining in a bucket of water in my yard and today, I had to trim the taproots and introduce it to its new home. At this stage this was an old washing up bowl, the only thing I had big enough to give it the room it needed to establish a good root ball.
This could take a year or more, so it was important to make the tree as comfortable as possible while all this was going on. Unfortunately, I had to trim back most of the top growth to enable it to concentrate on root production.
This tree has taxed my imagination and my determination. Not to mention most of my strength. My sore muscles and badly bruised arms are testament to how difficult it was to dig the tree up without killing it.
Sitting in the sunshine on my old work bench, the tree looked as battle scarred as I was. I knew we would both heal in time, but first I had to make him comfortable. I used the best soil mixture and a sprinkling of Rootgrow, a mycorrhizal fungi guaranteed to encourage root growth. I also used hormone rooting powder at strategic points around the base of the tree.
I was dealing with a fair-sized lump of wood and it was important to anchor it firmly in the soil so it couldn’t rock about. I found some soft cords in my sewing basket which were perfect for the job.
The family have named him, Oakey Dokey!
All the time I was working on the oak, I was growing more and more confident about the success of my venture. Considering the trees history and what had just happened to it, it looked quite healthy and one day it would look magnificent!
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