Fallen giants

Mr Cornflower has been allowed a guest spot; he hopes regular readers will forgive the intrusion.

Last nght the wind blew down a great tree in the park, and this morning the children swarmed over it like Lilliputians on prostrate Gulliver. It made me reflect on my feelings about trees; not just the commonplace thought which has occurred to pretty much everyone on contemplating a big old tree, "that living, growing thing was here long before I was born and will be here long after I'm dead", but the reverence many people feel for trees which can be a metaphor for our place in the world. We are like leaves; we are the life of the tree and its glorious adornment, but each generation will bud, uncurl and flutter to the ground while the tree itself follows a much deeper, longer rhythm of birth, growth, maturity and death.

The Trees by Philip Larkin sets out these two rhythms; it can be bookended with another of his poems "And now the leaves suddenly lose strength" (sorry, no link but you'll enjoy it when you find it) which sees the leaves fall and swirl in autumn.

I have only a few tree books (see sidebar) but they cover a wide range, from utilitarian field guides to inspirational coffee table stuff (from which the picture of the Fredville Oak in Kent, below, is taken.)

And if Cornflower lets me have another guest spot, I'll write about the tree house we built in our Scots Pine, or about that masterpiece of arboreal escapism, "Brendon Chase" by BB.

Comments

[Peter the flautist]

Botanical Cat loves trees too and has both of the "recommended texts" that were featured today.

Well done the guest contributor (perhaps we will hear occasionally from others?)

Back to my musical dungeon ...

[Lisa W]

Our trees are just beginning "afresh" in Atlantic Canada. It has been a cool spring. The Fredville Oak is magnificant and I have to say is reminiscent of the Whomping Willow of Harry Potter fame.

[Fiberjoy]

Ah, wonderful post Mr Cornflower! Thank you for contributing about the fallen giant. The last sentence in the first paragraph rings so true.
Trees symbolize life, and the eternal, in so many ways.

[Peg]

Ms. Cornflower told us it was blowing a bit yesterday, but it must have been a gale!
We here in Canada have had a few blows that knocked down many, many trees, and it is sad. So many years to get to that size and the events they have witnessed over that time - just wish they could talk to us.
We have two parks in Canada, Point Pleasant Park in Halifax and Stanley Park in Vancouver and the devastation in the past few years of thousands of trees being blown down is unbelievable and you have to go there to even start to believe. Actually, we have more parks than these two, but these two along with Pacific Rim Park have had massive destruction due to fallen trees and will never fully recover in my lifetime.
I loved the picture of the Lilliputians climbing over Gulliver!
That is a spectacular tree in Kent!

[Charity]

Hello, Mr. Cornflower, how nice to meet you! I enjoyed your post - I have a strong affinity for trees, and have been saddened by the Mountain Pine Beetle here, which is quickly doing away with our evergreens. I look forward to hearing about the treehouse!

[Alison]

Really enjoyed the post - and look forward to hearing your musings on Brendon Chase (if you're allowed). My father first read it to us when we were young children and it was a great favourite with all three of us - quite an achievement given our VERY different interests. I think Joan Aiken was the only other author to appeal to all uf us (particularly her collections of short stories).

[Barbara]

'Portion of this yew
Is a man my grandsire knew,'

Very evocative post. I was obsessed with Robin Hood when I was child, and the idea of living in the greenwood, so naturally I loved Brendon Chase when I read it. More, please!

[Donna]

I know this is a day late, but I just had to comment on the Fallen Giants. Where we live, we have many very old and very beautiful trees. I especially love them when they are twisted and gnarly. My daughter and I call them Boo Radley trees, as I like to think that these are the sort of tree that Boo would have hidden his little gifts for Scout and Jem in. Thanks for the great post.

[Equiano]

Welcome to Mr Cornflower! I come from a family of tree lovers - it is their ancientness that so intrigues me. Thank you for your post. Roll on treehouse stories.

[Linda]

Wonderful post. I too love trees and will share my favorite poem by Engene McCarthy.
The Mapel tree that night
without a wind or rain
let go its leaves
because its time had eome.

Brown veined, spotted,
like old hands, fluttering in blessing,
they fell upon my head and
shoulders, and then
down to the quiet at my feet.

I stood and stood
until the tree was bare
and have told no one
but you that I was there.

Please visit again.

Linda Smith

[Tui]

I live surrounded by trees in a semi-rural area. During a bitter ice storm which decimated the eastern part of Ontario a few years ago, we lost half of the beautiful clump birch on our front lawn. Its branches were so weighted with ice for days on end, bowed to the ground, that they finally snapped. I was so afraid that the resident dryad would flee but she seems to have stayed, although her home is frail now. Last summer a ferocious wind blew over two trees in our back yard, snapping their large trunks like matchsticks and hurling them to the ground with an enormous crash. It seems we are having this wild weather everywhere. May the Fredville oak remain safe from any of this.