Struggling tree delimbed
There's a little stump of tree at the lower end of the road up through Sunbury.
It is scrawny. It is stunted. It's not the height of a seven year old child, because it was broken in two last year.
In the recent couple of months it has sprouted small branches and leaves, as trees do in spring. Up to today it had vibrant fresh foliage, doing the keep-me-alive thing that foliage is for plants.
That little tree is an inspiration to all living things, that where there's life, there's hope.
This morning I walked down by our stunted little survivor. Half the new tiny branches were lying scattered on the ground around its puny trunk.
Around it also were a group of boys and girls wearing Cross & Passion College uniforms. Presumably on a break between their exams. I asked was there a reason why the little tree had been stripped of its life-giving leaves?
"We didn't do it," one lad said.
"Then what are those leaves in your hand?"
He looked at the bunch of green and dropped it to join the others on the ground.
"I didn't do it," he said. "I just picked these up off the ground."
I shrugged. "It's a pity the leaves have been torn off, though."
I picked my way between the girls sitting on the footpath, not concerned that they were blocking it. "Yeah, a pity," I heard from behind me as I walked on. Then some sniggered laughter.
I'll pick up the litter later that they'll leave (they always do). But I can't stick the tiny branches back on our puny, brave and cruelly delimbed tree.
***
LATER: As an update to the story above, here's how two fingers are given to anyone complaining about trees being damaged.
After lunch, I had occasion to walk down the road again. No students. Also, no branches at all left on the poor tree.
Of course, I've no proof that it was done by the students ... after all, they say they don't do such things.
And the tree can't tell ...
Brian Byrne.
