California oak trees live in my heart and soul. I miss them when I travel, and they signify “home” when I return. They dazzle me, enchant me, and make me think I’m a photographer, because simply aiming a camera in their general direction yields a masterpiece every time. (Which is why my phone is full of “oak porn.”) How often do I stop the car to admire a magnificent oak tree? More than my wife cares to count.

Happily, opportunities to pull over and go gaga over an oak tree are ubiquitous all up and down the hills and valleys of California west of the Sierra. Every other street or development carries some version of “oak” in its name. Heck, the very word “Encino” is Spanish for oak. “Thousand Oaks” is English for “probably more like a million oaks.” Oak trees line our streets, cluster along our hiking trails, shade our parks—and they are so beautiful.

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