Alleys of Light
To me, the most moving of all arrangements of oaks is the alley, or alleé in French. Walking through the slanted morning light under an alley of oaks feels like being inside a quiet cathedral. The inside is filled with a warm glow like sunlight filtered through stained glass. The incense of the oak’s dark bark and leafy canopy clears my thinking as much as any sermon and helps me measure the size of my cares with the yardstick of circling seasons and spinning stars. In my search across the state for historic oaks, I’ve photographed almost 20 different mature alleys, a dozen of them planted before1900, and two still surviving that were planted before1800.