1. Doorways to Other Worlds2. Wasps, Words and Oakspirations3. Crowning Glories4. Life, Death and Beetling About5. Enchanted Forests: Folklore, Myth and Magic6. Incredible Edibles: Health and Healing7. Threats: Could a Beauty Be a Beast?8. The Oak's Little Helpers. And Its Big Helpers.ConclusionSome Fun StuffAcknowledgementsEndnotesBibliographyIndex

"With a plethora of nature books around, it can be very easy to miss a gem. And a gem is what Oaklore is. This is a very delightful delve into the world of the oak tree... and it uncovers a wealth of information that will keep you engaged from first to last."—Bird Watching Magazine"This enthusiastic and colourful account of the oak is laced with fascinating details [...] [t]he prose is chatty and approachable, and the contents wide-ranging and delightfully eclectic"—Scottish Field"Acton's adoration of her subject is evident throughout. [...] her writing is engaging and conversational in style but rich and detailed in its content."—The Field Magazine​“As rich, satisfying and revelatory as a long walk in the woods.”—Peter Wohlleben, author of the New York Times bestseller The Hidden Life of Trees“[T]he joyful verve with which Acton imparts wisdom gathered in the wild is impossible to resist.”—The Observer"[C]omprehensive and delightful....loaded with fascinating insights and anecdotes....Clever and utterly charming, Oaklore is a creative study of one of Britain’s most distinctive and important trees."—Foreword, STARRED review“What a joy to revel in the multifaceted world of our most iconic tree”—Chris Beardshaw“A treasure trove of information about the one tree everyone knows (or thinks they do), Oaklore is written with deep knowledge and an admirably light touch.”—Lev Parikian, author of Taking Flight“Oaklore takes us on a botanical exploration, during which we cover vast ground. Acton introduces us to an array of biodiversity that live and flourish on these stately trees—from roots to canopy, she deftly illustrates how oaks are "doorways into other worlds." The science in Oaklore is rich and approachable, covering everything from oaks and birdsong to wasp factories in branches. I am in awe of the oaken world around us!”—Lyndsie Bourgon, author of Tree Thieves"A joyful and imaginative exploration of these totemic trees."—Tristan Gooley, How to Read a Tree

Chapter One - Doorways to Other WorldsBeginning with the BirdsOak trees, so folklore tells us, are doorways to other worlds. Other worlds held quite an appeal during a Covid-infested winter while our own world was coughing, spluttering and grinding its way to a halt.So it was that my dog friend, Pepe, and I found ourselves in the heart of Sherwood Forest on a misty February morning when the world was in turmoil. The day was warming up. The year was waking up. I was embarking on a quest to discover more about the mystery and magic of oaks and the doors they can open up for us.A great tit chimed like a tiny bell, high up in an oak branch. Blue tits lisped along in tinselly harmony and a gang of long-tailed tits, which sounded like they were unzipping anoraks, added a light percussion. They buzzed to the beat of the night-fallen rain, which now dripped heavily, steadily from the tips of the trees.Out of the blue, a drum roll. A great spotted woodpecker burst onto the sound scene with its battering blast, the woodland’s answer to Phil Collins. I sought out the feathery musician, peering up into misty treetops through muscular tree limbs that reached into the milky haze and tapered on and up and out into fine, fingery twigs.Suddenly we had a glimpse of the drummer bird, uniformed as it was in smart black, white and red. For its instrument it had chosen something perfectly percussive: a thick, dead oaken branch that clawed, antler-like, from the tree.The sight and sound of this creature gave me a little bird-fuelled lift. It made the journey worthwhile; more than worthwhile, in fact: a delight. I had wanted to see some nearby woodpeckers because of the special role they play in nature, but we were in one of those pandemic periods when we weren’t allowed to meet in groups, so I couldn’t just take myself down to the nearby visitor centre to ask where I should look. Instead, I phoned the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB), which manages the site, and got hold of Carl Cornish, conservation officer. Carl patiently explained the way over the phone: ‘go past The Bee Tree, up to The Major Oak, head out past The Medusa Oak . . .’ All instructions should sound like this, I thought, as if you are a character in The Lord of the Rings and Gandalf is sending you off to a new, strange world, one of which you have heard fantastical tales, to find something precious. In a great many ways, that was indeed the case.This being February, woodpeckers seemed good companions with whom to begin an adventure exploring the life in and around oak trees. I had heard their drumming is intense around January to April. And, fittingly, like oak trees, woodpeckers are homemakers, providing accommodation to all sorts of other creatures by filling trees with little holes, cavities in which those other creatures set up house. Of the 2,300 species that are supported by oak trees in one way or another, many, I had learned, enjoy a woodpecker nook. They include other birds, bees, wasps and the red-listed (i.e. threatened) Bechstein’s bat. Later I was to go on up to peep through some of these creatures’ doorways and find out more about their lives, but first I felt compelled to linger a while to get to know woodpecker world a little, mainly because I’d fallen a little in love with woodpeckers. Woodpeckers, it turns out, are amazing.Woodpeckers are musicians. They are carpenters. They have been called tree surgeons and guardians of the forest. Their importance in nature is reflected in their status as a ‘keystone species’ and ‘umbrella species’; essentially, they support other beings that, in turn, help them to exist. They have inspired stories, poetry and even the design of bicycle crash helmets. Actually, the latter might have been based on a misunderstanding of woodpecker physiology, but, still, they are beautiful, they are diverse; some are quite strange and, like all the best families, they have a cousin who comes with a whiff of witchcraft. And if all that wasn’t enough, they have such extraordinary tongues that they once prompted Leonardo da Vinci, back in 1490, or thereabouts, to write a note on his to-do list: ‘Describe the tongue of the woodpecker.’Unfortunately, da Vinci’s description of said tongue seems to have been lost – if he ever got around to writing it – but thankfully others have studied these woodpecker lickers. Thanks to those dedicated people, we know that those tongues are remarkable for several reasons, not least of which is their astonishing length. The great spotted woodpecker (‘or great spot’), for example, has an appendage that can pop about four centimetres (11/2 inches) out of its beak – great for grabbing a grub and impressive for a creature that is only about 22cm (nine inches) long at adulthood. By my calculations, that means a human blessed with an organ of similar proportions would be able to stick it out about 28 centimetres – that’s about a foot for those of you who like imperial measures. A foot of tongue hanging out of a human mouth. Let’s be thankful evolution didn’t take that route.Conveniently, perhaps because of Mother and Father Nature’s tendency to be organised, the woodpecker’s tongue is retractable, a little like the electric cable on a vacuum cleaner, and, when not in use, it wraps itself neatly inside the woodpecker’s head. This system is not only a tidy and convenient arrangement, it is also multifunctional: the tongue and its supporting structures act like a handy inner cushion. They appear to help protect the bird’s noggin from scrambling like an egg as it hammers out its tune against a branch, at 10 or more strikes per second in the case of the great spot. This might not be the only safety feature built into this incredible animal’s head. Some have argued that spongy cartilage inside a woodpecker head acts as a shock absorber, and this is the theory that helped inspire the design of the aforesaid bicycle helmet. Others counter it does no such thing and the pecker’s brain is protected simply because of the size of the bird, but, still, they inspired the design of a crash helmet. Well done woodpeckers.Ever more amazed by the fantasticness of woodpeckers, I delved into Gerard Gorman’s book Woodpeckers and online sites like that of the Woodpecker Network, and everything I read increased my sense of wonder. So I hope you’ll bear with me while we spend some time diving further into this particular woody world here. I learned there are three ‘main’ woodpeckers in the UK. They are our great spotted friend, Dendrocopos major, the lesser spotted woodpecker, Dryobates minor (also known as Dendrocopos minor), and the green woodpecker, Picus viridis.The green woodpecker is notable for many things, not least for inspiring Professor Yaffle – whom some will remember from the loveable TV programme Bagpuss. It also wins my award for best nicknames. These include nicker pecker, yaffle bird, weather cock, yappingale, wet bird, Jack Eikle and, a personal favourite, laughing Betsey. It also sports a lovely outfit: a mossy green coat and stunning red cap, which makes it fairly easy to identify by sight. The two spotted versions are more easily mixed up with each other, or at least they would be if the little lesser spotted versions weren’t so rare. They both bear smart black, whitechevroned livery, accessorised, in some cases, with dabs of red. To help tell them apart, the Woodland Trust’s Amy Lewis points out that the lesser spotted has ‘barring all the way across the back rather than the “shoulder” patches of the great spotted. They also lack the red area beneath the tail.’ The lesser spotted male is much like the female but ‘with a red crown’.In addition to these three, there is also their strange and exciting cousin, the wryneck, Jynx torquilla, who appears on the scene occasionally. Interestingly, the wryneck isn’t on the list of 2,300 species mentioned above, but we know it isn’t a stranger to the oak tree. It deserves a brief mention here for its visits to the UK – even if it generally doesn’t stop to breed here these days, preferring other parts of Europe. It is hard to see the family resemblance between the wryneck and its cousins, and it isn’t a drummer. Instead it has a different talent: an ability to writhe, hiss and turn its head almost 180 degrees. Gerard Gorman says, ‘Currently the most common explanation for this bizarre behaviour is that it is mimicry, a direct imitation by the bird of the movements of a snake when threatened, but, tempting as this explanation is, no one has yet been able to offer firm evidence to prove it.’ In the past, this strange behaviour has led to superstitious people associating the bird with misfortune and magic. Personally I’m having no truck with the idea of bad luck. I would feel fortunate indeed to see a wryneck writhing away in our neck of the woods. Wrynecks used to breed in the UK, but they are no longer thought of as residents. On this, the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) says, ‘The decline and extinction of this species in the UK is believed to have been driven by a drop in food availability caused by a shortage of bare ground and short vegetation, although a number of other factors may have contributed including agricultural intensification, climate change, an increase in conifer plantations and the effects of pesticides.’The green and spotted woodpeckers, thankfully, can be found in Sherwood Forest and, on subsequent visits, as well as being drummed by the great spot, I have stood in a clearing as the yaffle sound of the green woodpecker whoops and bounces off the tree trunks. This can make you feel a little like you are being laughed at, which is fine by me. If I’m going to feel mocked I’d like it done by wildlife. I haven’t yet had a personal encounter with the rare lesser spotted woodpecker in Sherwood – that would be a much cooler, much more impressive experience in birding terms – but Carl and his colleagues at the RSPB tell me they are there and so now it is on my list. Yes, I am now the proud keeper of a birdy bucket list, something I didn’t even realise I needed until I started this quest. But that’s the thing about new openings, new worlds: you find you want to go further and deeper. You find yourself making lists of wild things.Despite the rarity of the lesser spot, woodpeckers on the whole are winners in evolutionary terms. Says Gorman, ‘They have one of the most extraordinary anatomies in the animal world, every aspect of which is pitched towards working on wood’, and Charles Darwin remarked that the woodpecker’s ‘feet, tail, beak and tongue . . . are so admirably adapted to catch insects under the bark of trees’ [original italic]. That tongue again. Along with other woodpecker features, it has clearly caught the imagination of several great minds while playing its own role in the survival of the fittest.As homebuilders, or rather home-excavators, the woodpeckers are hard workers, workers of wood. They can spend 20 days making a nest hole, chipping away like feathery little carpenters on the sunny side of a tree. And, adorably, they seem to have their own little dust masks for the job: tufty bits at the base of their bill appear to filter dust and splinters, helping keep their eyes clear. After all that effort to make a home, you might think they’d move in, settle down happily and be done with it, but no, they tend to move each year, creating a new hole a bit higher up the tree and going through the whole carpentry routine anew. There is a reason for this, though. Like humans – well, most humans – they don’t go through the upheaval of moving house just for fun. They move probably so they can avoid the build-up of pesky pests in their homes: fleas and lice and other things that make you feel itchy with a mere mention. So the hard work and upheaval all have a greater purpose.Of course, nothing goes to waste in nature. More holes means more homes; more homes for the whole community, and this is one of the reasons woodpeckers have been called ecosystem engineers. As their fellow engineer Leonardo da Vinci is believed to have said, ‘Learn how to see. Realise that everything connects to everything else.’