The oak grows slowly. It puts down long and strong roots in the first years of its life and puts it down into the moist earth with gusto. After that it takes direction towards the heavens, until graceful old age. There isn’t a single tree in our forests that can stand next to the powerful oak, stubborn in it’s size and will to live. Even if the bite of winter frost takes a toll on it’s fine branches and buds, in the summer they blossom again and the crown of leaves is always high and green above our heads. Strength and courage to grow. Fearless.
