Growing up, my dad's land had a giant live oak near a spring-fed creek that an arborist estimated was pre-Columbian. Three people could hug it without overlapping, and our cattle would rest under it for shade. I imagine that Kerrville oak was even older.
During junior high, Pop gave permission to build a treehouse in its boughs, so long as I didn't drive any nails into the tree or otherwise harm it. He once wished to be buried underneath it.
SH 130 and eminent domain forced my dad to sell the property in 2008, and though the structures have been demolished and the 52 acres on which they sat have been bisected by a toll road and its frontages, the highway department at least had the good sense to leave the tree be.
Here are some pics of me visiting it one last time, in January 2008, before my parents sold and moved to Johnson City.
The three main boughs would make large trees.
I guess this outs me as a treehugger.
The lone board was all that remained of the treehouse.
I'm up there. Can you find me?