Pallenpool’s – The Tree Of Ages

Along the Weavers Way I came across an ancient and long in passing tree this morning, and although physically it was so –still, it arrested me, spoke to me even. I decided to stay awhile to just be and sit against and beneath what remained of its afterlife and simply listen.

With degrees of imagination I stepped back through the tree’s life and discovered much over its many years. I saw the few bleached out branches; they appeared to me anguished, so I dressed them and saw the many colours that had adorned and been cast from these branches through time.

The leaves that grew then fell year on year, to the delight of travellers having taken shade beneath in long hot summers and to those that viewed the skies through the patchwork of skeletal branches in winter; to the delight of children of all ages who shuffled their feet through the crisp leafy humus in autumn; to the delight of Lords and Ladies who had admired from the footpaths that traversed the gently rolling hills beyond the Palladian courtyards.

As time slipped by we spoke of other days, the passing of many seasons, to the nature it had provided for, the changing faces and times of people who had passed below and to the landscape upon which it had grown. It had witnessed much, from a nurtured estate sapling to the magnificence in its maturity.

I have never taken any living thing for granted. Until today I have never considered a seemingly lifeless tree in the way one regards those that live and breathe. However I will now look upon a passing tree with an air of consideration hitherto not felt for, until I sat down by its side and allowed myself to be carried through and by its story I would never have known all that I do now.

Nature can be a revealing and beautiful thing – time is the key to its treasure…quite literally.

Writing & Image – Pallenpool, April 2024