Although I don’t have my own tree, I can see a line of five beauties between the road and the field beside my house. They are quite old, sycamores planted and spaced carefully many years ago. The give lovely shade in summer and are appreciated by many birds and smaller wild creatures. However I like the way winter shows the real beauty, when their branches are bare.
Time leaves its mark on all living things and the five have their signs of hard lives; wounds now healed, leaving bulges and dents, sometimes hidden under bright green moss.
This year has been pretty wild, very windy for much of the time with record rainfall but the five heroes hardly lost a twig; it’s said that trees have as much growth under the ground as you see above, and the main trunks didn’t rock in the gales, sturdy and unshakable. They are…
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