WE CAN SOW OAKS NOW

How to sow oak:

In open ground (on site or in the nursery), dig the soil to a depth of 30 cm, crumble well and level it; potted, fill them.
Lightly spray the oil tassels to deter rodents from consuming them.
Place the acorns to a depth of between 5 and 6 cm.

Spacers of 30 cm for a seedling, 15 cm on the row in the nursery. Only put one acorn per pot, so it would be difficult to divide the seedlings without damaging the roots.

Locate seedling sites in the ground with bamboos.
Water moderately to prevent rotting of the acorns.

After sowing the oak:
Carefully remove weeds that sprout around the seedlings. If birds or mammals can eat young shoots, protect with a net or net.
For sowing usually mixed soil garden soil and drainage material. The acorns are planted either horizontally, or with the tip down (where the root comes out) and the head (where there is the dome that covers it) upwards. Just cover them a little with soil. Therefore, the young shoot of the tree should not be in the shade of large trees or grass. You should regularly remove weeds, weed out the growing area of ​​the seedling. Additional moisture, fertilizing is necessary in the early years and in the dry season. It is necessary to constantly fluff the soil. In addition, it is important to prevent any diseases of the young shoot.
Oak is a slowly growing plant. Don't expect quick results and expect to harvest acorns in a year or two.
The specified plant reaches the height of a medium-sized tree at the age of 9-10 years. In another ten years the first fruits could appear. Although, as a rule, fruiting occurs at the age of 40-45 years. But even at this age, it is not worth waiting for acorns every season. The crop appears every 4 years. Although a sprout grown in a pot develops faster, such a tree will die faster. This is due to the improper development of the rhizome in a pot. Therefore, if you want to lay a centuries-old garden, it is better to grow an oak from an acorn.

A LITTLE LIGHT, A LITTLE PLACE

You did not notice it immediately, you were carried away by events. And when you realized how much the current had turned your way, it was late. Maybe too much. Perhaps. Was it the desire to change? To see life from another perspective, to lose certainties and build new ones? By your choice you have taken this path alone, provoked by a force that you have not tested, if not theoretically. And now only a shell remains of you, of your feelings, of what you wanted to say and that you have kept inside. This time it went like this. Again. In the darkness in which you find yourself, thinking about your mistakes and your flaws, there is a fixed point. A light that has always been there: sometimes strong, sometimes intermittent, sometimes dazzling, strong enough to illuminate the darkest nights and guide you through them. You were foolish to take her for granted when she never abandoned you and has always been there. And you love her, more than anything else, so much so that her horizons are expanding beyond yours, where you won’t be able to follow her. Where you cannot be there. She will never take flight, not of her own free will. Have you been blessed by some higher entity stirring in the chaos of the universe, or have you been tested by fate? How can you find out? Going forward. Always with that Light, inside.
I insist on not detaching myself from roots and shoots, I fight to remain attached to what I am, to what generated me. But the wind pulls, time goes by and I am more and more fragile, devoured by an immense curiosity to see the world. Slowly I detach myself, the tree cradles me for a moment in his slender arms, gently, and then throw me upwards, higher and higher, until my ears are plugged with violence, and the pressure becomes feel. Flight and flight, towards the unknown, towards the fog, towards No Man’s Land. I fly on the crest of the air, as if the sea were pushing me, and doubts and paranoia take root, the fog scares me, the sea is stormy, the future still dark. I fly and get scared, I’m afraid. Home Nostalgia also decides to join the party, and a series of mixed feelings try to slow my journey. I’m about to give in, stop flying, start falling. Until all the dreams, the hopes, the projects come to mind. All this takes me by the shoulders, and takes me back to fly, as if I had big wings to carry me. I fly and fly, and I never stop. The future is bright, the fog almost dissolved. I smile at what awaits me, meanwhile I fly.
We never stick to the present tense. We anticipate the future as too slow to come, as if to hasten its course; or we remember the past to stop it as too fast; so imprudent that we err in times that are not ours, and we do not think at all about the only one that belongs to us, and so vain, that we reflect on those who are no longer nothing, and flee without reflecting that alone that exists. The fact is that the present usually hurts us. We hide it from our sight because it afflicts us; if, on the other hand, it is pleasant for us, we regret seeing him flee. We try to support it by means of the future, and we are concerned with disposing of the things that are not in our power, for a time which we are not at all sure of arriving at.
I’ve learned that people are more important than anything else. Which is not the beautiful place, but it is the people who make it so. That you are never really alone if you carry someone in your heart. I learned that distance breaks what cannot stand and unites even more what wants to hold hands. I understand that you can go anywhere, but the most beautiful journey is what you do inside yourself.

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