The morning heavy machinery rumbled up the road to begin clearing a bit of this wooded hill for our new home, I became familiar with black walnut trees. As the big trees fell, a crew got to work with chainsaws; and that's when I saw the treasure hidden beneath the bark. The stark contrast between the stunning, dark, chocolate brown heartwood and glorious, honey gold sapwood stopped me in my tracks. One guy fulfilled my request to cut a tree cookie. I saved it for a long time, intending to have a cutting board made from it. Sadly, that never happened. I don't know where the tree cookie is today, but I still think of it fondly when admiring the many black walnut trees still standing.
During a meeting with head carpenter Bill during construction, I heard a ch-ch-ch sound that’s now familiar. It means a black walnut’s free-falling through leaves, and the one I heard that morning landed on my left shoulder with a painful thud. “Had I been shot?,” crossed my mind as I learned that a black walnut destined to reach solid ground takes its mission seriously and the higher the tree the harder they fall.
This year, a bumper crop of large black walnuts litters the road. Though tough-husked, car tires squish them easily, releasing the gooey black insides. Squirrels love walnuts, and black bits throughout the garden attest to their meals. I once placed a found walnut on a stump on the way to the school bus stop with the kids. By the time I walked back up the hill, black bits. Squirrels don't waste any time.
I found this young tree at the bottom of the hill today; and someday, Lord willing, it'll overhang the entrance to our road. That sure will be pretty.
