Leaving the Battle Oaks, we weren't far from the next group of trees, as the crow flies. But the notorious Austin traffic, along with whatever sporting event had the streets filled with Longhorn fans, made the trek a bit slow. Grateful that my Austinite friend was willing to drive, I navigated from the website instructions.

The beginning of the Austin we now take for granted began under the shelter of these oaks. In 1839, a grid of the first city blocks were sold in their shade, the importance of which was obvious on this humid, 92 degree October day.

Sweating under the branches, I was reminded of this quote I heard from landscape designer Thomas Rainer, when I saw him speak in Nacogdoches. He hilariously dubbed Martha Schwartz “the Howard Stern of landscape design.”

In other words, we have great reverence for special places and treat ordinary areas like trash. This site felt like a mixture of both. A mostly ignored shrine to progress — a fraction of what was once wild open space— now surrounded by high rise buildings.

The largest of three impressive trees is roped protectively at the base, with signs requesting we stay off the sensitive roots. The other oaks have a circular deck structure over and around the trunks, forming a seating area to which we didn't get close, since more than a couple of homeless folks had set up camp there.

Rainer continues:

As I have gushed before, Mr. Rainer's writing remains a monumental inspiration to me and I highly recommend delving into his extensive blog and the book he co-authored with Claudia West, Planting in a Post Wild World.

Modern signage recounts the story of the Auction Oaks' significance. Since we had decided to flaunt a parking meter, we didn't spend much time reading and continued on with our journey.

We saw three other groups of trees in Austin that day:
Seiders Oaks
Battle Oaks
Treaty Oak