Winter has taken hold here; while British winters are generally more benign than those in some parts of the world, I concede that the cycle of frost then wet and windy, then back to frost, is getting a little wearying.
I have a new infatuation though: naked trees.
A completely naked tree looms out of the mist
Most trees we grow in the UK, and indeed most native here, are deciduous. The autumn colour is muted in my part of the country, the mild and wet climate of the South West not really bringing out the colours very well, but I’ve come to really appreciate the sight of bare trees in winter. I look after quite a lot of fine trees in the gardens under my care, although I confess I’ve never counted how many. I’ve had losses, as discussed here, and they’ve hurt me at an emotional level.
I find great wonder in even the most innocuous of trees; I can stand at the foot of a trunk and look into a canopy, marvelling at the sheer scale of a tree that, from a distance, makes little impression. I find myself trying to guess how long a tree has stood, picturing how the world has changed around it over the years. Depending on species we have some pretty ancient trees in the UK, some on a par with the bristlecone pines and giant redwoods in the US.
A big but still fairly young English oak
Trees act as anchors in the landscape and in time. When I marvel at big trees on my garden visits I spare a thought for the gardeners long gone, people like me, who planted them and nurtured them in their early days. I like to think of their excitement as another new species gets planted; in some cases these were trees being planted for the first time. It’s still exciting to plant new trees now, to set them in the earth and wish them well on their way on what you hope will be a long and peaceful life.
Winter lays some trees bare in a remarkably stark way. How I love to admire the patterns of their branches against the bright blue sky. Most of the trees I see are far from perfect; they show scars from storms and squirrel damage, sometimes even from other trees hitting them on their catastrophic journey to the ground. Dead branches can remain for years; I won’t do anything about them unless they pose a clear and present danger, but I make a little mental note not to stand under them.
There’s a big chunk missing from this tree
I’m not the only one drawn to trees, and this brings me enormous joy. Sometimes when I’m out I see someone else having a moment of reflection, standing and admiring a tree. I leave these people to their contemplations; I would hate to be disturbed in my own.
While trees have their fan clubs we must remain aware that their status in the world is not assured. Catastrophes happen, as do rampant diseases and human destruction. Not everyone understands trees, and not everyone wants to. Trees are so often exposed to the barbarity of human misunderstanding and felled because there is insufficient tolerance for them. We live in a crazy world where people buy homes with large trees and cut them down because they consider them an inconvenience, and where trees are removed to allow a small number of people to enjoy a particular view for the short time they actually spend looking in a certain direction from a certain position.
Tree fans must become ambassadors for the trees we love. We must break from our silent enjoyment of the trees around us and evangelise. Even a gentle “look at that beautiful tree” plants the seed in someone’s mind that trees can be things of great beauty and majesty, not just background decoration to be ignored or even reviled.
I’ve been enjoying measuring tree heights with my
It’s hard for me not to get excited by trees in mist
very cool height meter. This moderately expensive little device allows me to stand a set distance away from a tree and read its height. I do this mainly because I am an unrepentant tree nerd, but it does have an added benefit when I’m trying to engage others with trees. If you’re here reading my words you’re probably already a tree fan, or at least a tree appreciator. It’s probably safe to say that you have an appreciation of plants in general. It can be difficult for people who don’t share our interests to grasp what the appeal of a tree might actually be. This is where facts and figures come in; being able to say that a tree is a certain height, has a certain girth or is a certain age speaks to people more than looking at some bare branches against the sky.
Bare branches against a setting sun
It’s good to reach out. Trees are assets to our environments, both the natural world and the human environment; big trees are lost quickly but replaced slowly. Far better to respect the big trees we have now and nurture new ones that will become the veteran trees of the future.