Trees, like women, give us life. As the poet, Mary Oliver, said, “When I am among the trees … they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily.” (Mary Oliver, When I Am Among The Trees, 2006)
Trees add beauty to our surrounds, and provide us with shelter and food. They are living, sentient beings. They give us hope for a planet that is in peril. And yet we mould, mutilate and destroy them.
This year, I lost a battle to save a beautiful, mature Dawn Redwood that had been growing for over 60 years in the garden alongside a shared drive to my property. It was brutally (and illegally) chopped down by neighbours who apparently prefer concrete and stones to a garden. The stump was reduced to mulch. Large sections of trunk and limbs were carted off to be wastefully burnt as firewood, releasing tonnes of carbon into the atmosphere. I have also watched with dismay the limbs of an even older Copper Beech lopped off by other neighbours because it dropped leaves on their lawn.
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