Sunday, 5 October 2003

Personal

My Favourite Tree

[Graffiti from 1921]My favourite tree has been cut down. Every limb: amputated. All that's left are four strong trunks reaching twelve foot towards the sky. No branches to support, casting a long shadow rather than providing a wide shelter.

This tree taught me the beauty of graffiti. Miles from anywhere, its trunks are covered in carvings. Each year I'd come and check that another's been added. The oldest I can find is CLAIRE 1921; this year she's joined by Jack 2003. There's a beauty in these names and notes I'd not seen before: dreams frozen in an instant and tattooed into the bark of a wise old tree. An eternally present past, stretching its arms towards our future.

I wonder, is this why it wasn't uprooted entirely? Could the workmen not bring themselves to shatter these dreams? Or were the carvings responsible for killing the tree, death by a hundred wounds?

I never carved my name on a tree. But if I had I like to think I would have joined Claire and Jack; the Butley Clumps were unique, it's sad to see them go.

Posted by pab at 22:53