A line of Black Walnut trees stands along the road south to Conklin, Michigan.

I have always admired the wild orderliness of these Black Walnut
trees, probably planted decades earlier by a farmer who wanted fresh
walnuts for his wife to bake into cookies. The fields are always well
cutivated around Ravenna, but even the hedgerows shows planning. The
hedgerows in Michigan are simpler than those in France, but just as
secretive of delights. The road I take west from the Ravenna area
heads into Sparta, and these walnuts always remind me where to turn
right to head towards Conkin. I am betting the squirrels get all the
walnuts now, unless some foragers are still afoot in the 21st Century,
working the hedgerows by car in the fall. I wonder how long these
trees will go untrammeled. For Black Walnuts, the boles are strong and
wide, but not as strong and wide as some I've seen. There's plenty of
growth left in these specimens.