Getting close

The section with the hawthorn trees is on Peters Hill Road between the Mendum and Poplar gates. They are elegant and sculpturally shaped, appearing to be living complicated lives, if the twists and turns of their branches are any indication. I have no idea whether it is the nature of hawthorns or the specific lives of these trees, but they twist and turn and appear, sometimes, to dance.

There’s more to their lives, of course, their history written in their growth, severed limbs and gaping holes and all. The closer in I look, the more questions I have, although I don’t have the knowledge to posit answers. In truth, I look not as an arborist but rather as an artist. So what attracts my eye may bear no relation to botanic truth. I’m OK with that.

What I notice is how comfortable they seem to be, how easily they rest in this particular place, how they seem in conversation with one another. Perhaps that’s my imagination. It doesn’t matter to me. And, in any case, I always come away from time in the Arb with a quiet heart and deep wonder. These hawthorn trees add to that.