The Stricken Tree

On The Lees, a large expanse of farmland divided up into several crops, there are various markers and paths and passages between plantings that circumscribe or extend the walk one takes – the shortest walk I make has been towards a big tree growing beside the Tweed, at a spot were two paths diverge.  There is a bench there, and a fishing marker.  As I was walking towards this tree the other day I couldn’t recognise it as itself, as the shape was all wrong; and when I came up near I could see that great hunks had been torn off and were lying in a jumble beside it. The beauty of the tree was ravaged, its main trunk ragged against the bright slate winter sky. Now I notice all the blue and white and red markings on trees that show they have been condemned, and find it poignant that they should be felled.