Oh Susie, we are honored by your presence in the nature directory! And thank you for this post. It was so beautiful, and infuriating, and heartbreaking. The loss of even one oak is a blow.
In total over that week of rain, which really hasn’t stopped since, we have had seven old oaks slip from their rooted homes to their eventual resting place… and I am certain there will be more. It is the saddest sight to see… I cant help but worry for the further if the rest.
Wonderful details here. As for oak, my most revered tree, how my heart would be breaking to see them treated like inconvenient objects rather than the magnificent sentient beings they are. It is so difficult when one becomes aware of a neighbor doing something terribly destructive to nature “on their property,” I might say “Oh no! That’s so sad.” Since it affects everyone, not just them. But regardless, like in your case, I’m sure my face says it all….
It is a difficult subject to attend in these parts Carmine, the farmers are set in their ways and no matter what evidence can be given to convince them of the harm they may be doing. I say nothing… it is not my way to argue with tradition but I will never by in agreement with the felling of healthy trees, especially old healthy trees that can tell us so much, no matter how sad I feel.
Thank you so much for your kind and understanding comment… 🙏🏽
This was heart-wrenching. Here in Japan, too, they cut down beautiful trees and bamboo forests. One of the latter was recently taken out near where I live to dig up the clay underground to be used for the pottery industry. Perhaps one day, I can see it in its natural state again.
But an ancient oak and its friends we won’t see in our lifetime.
I have read of the bamboo forests disappearing Louise, like the rain forests we will never see them again and no, nor the big oaks… I understand that there is a certain amount of maintenance that must be undertaken but can it not be done in sympathy with our planet?
We live in times where money will always take precedence but it’s changing and gathering in the mists are people like us that care, it’s a start!
Thank you so much for reading, I wish you a peaceful rest of your day. X
Hi Susie, this is the first of your writing that I've read. I know we've passed each other in the halls of Substack but never stopped to speak. The way you write, the words disappear and I am standing beside you as we mourn the loss of a tree or celebrate the warmth of the sun. That's an incredible gift.
My mother has kept a journal every morning since I was born. The spirit of your writing reminds me of her. She sits in the stillness with her hurricane lamp and looks out at the fog or rain or the promise of a sunrise and translates what she feels into what she observes in the natural world.
Thank you for this beautiful piece. I'm so glad I found you this morning.
Ben I am more delighted than I can even begin to put into words that you have not only nipped by but stopped to read and enjoy my humble words too - thank you, belatedly so for which I give huge apologies. I am having notification issues… and overwhelm issues on top!
Spring is like that here….
I love thé description you give of your mother, you too have transported me to that spot where she sits, with her hurricane lamp watching and waiting for the day to begin… I would love to read her thoughts.
I need not wonder further as to where your own passion and uncontrollable brilliance for writing came from. 🍃
Thank you for your beautiful story. We are thinking a lot about trees these days. Up in the north where we live there are hardly any woods. We found out that we are tree people, we might even move back to the old place (which has on the other end far to many people...)
Oh Elske, no trees??? I can understand your dilemma lovely, so well. I lived beside the sea in a town for a year, it was the only time in my life that I didn't live with trees surrounding me and whilst the sea was wonderful, it never replaced my longing for them. I hope you find somewhere perfect!
Thank you always for reading, I wish you a kind week also - with love xx
This is equal parts melancholy and beautiful, Susie. As always, we are there with you as you walk through your surrounds.
Umbels. I did not know this word but I very much appreciate now knowing this word.
"...a realisation that perhaps he has one too, though he's given me no sign of it in the past." The context is serious, but this made me smile because I know people just like this and catching those rare moments when you think that maybe they do have a heart. You phrased it perfectly.
You're very kind Nathan, thank you... 'Umbels' it always conjures a picture of many parts, these flowers I speak of have hundreds of tiny heads, and even more petals, they crowd the lanes in clouds of white - I'm glad you know this word too now!
I always try to see the very best of a person, we all have our weak spots after all, Monsieur's was obviously his mum, I don't think he could have hidden his love for her if he'd tried; I'm glad it was visible at that moment...
Thank you again, also, for sharing - I hope the week is gentle on you!
If only more of the world could always try to see the very best of each person. Then perhaps the planet wouldn't be in the state it's in. Spreading and showing empathy when possible is always a good thing.
I Googled umbel and found some more pictures to go along with your words. It's a great word.
The week is slowly improving, thanks. A lot of major deadlines are being knocked off (although there's a looming grant deadline that I just have no idea how I'm going to meet, but oh well...)
Thank you Roselle, in fact the halting of these trees being felled has been an on going sadness - I feel each time that I fail in the work of protector infant of these barbarians, despite trying my hardest to make them see the vast errors of their ways but they either don't or won't listen... it breaks my heart.
I hope you are well? and that your garden is advancing... mine is terribly behind still - cold weather last week wreaked havoc! :-( xx
So beautiful Susie. Your photos are just gorgeous - soft and delicate. Hopeful.
I could feel myself alongside you the whole way through your post. The smells of elderflower and gooseberry from Monsieur's mother's kitchen waft all the way to NZ.
Trees are everything. I also can't believe that people insist on being blind to this. Wishing you well. xx
Huge thanks Jo, I don't know why I continue to be shocked at the actions of these farmers, as guardians of the land, surely they have a responsibility to practice their task as they should? To look after the trees rather than fell them?
That scent though, it was heavenly....I'm glad it reached you there! xx
Beautiful! I'm sorry you didn't find the words you needed for a smile, but you touched some hearts with your writing and that is always a lovely thing. Your pictures, lovely as they are, have a dreamy, ethereal look to them, which really goes with the tone of your whole post. Very well done!! XO
What a very lovely and kind comment Danielle, if I touch just one heart I am happy, more than one is a dream come true... sometimes I use a special lens to achieve an ethereal effect, especially when I have forgotten my specs! ;-)
May sincerest thanks to you for taking the time to read this... xx
Susie, wonderfully written. We have missed your words here. I wonder what sadness has occurred in monsieur's life to blind him to the beauty of nature and its healing qualities. It is unfortunate that there are so many like him and so few like us.
My warmest thanks Matthew, I find it a curious thing that he understands so little of the importance of nature when I consider the fact that his father was a botanist, a strange and sad rebellion perhaps, or yes, maybe you are right too, maybe there was an irreparable sadness I know not the details of.. nor will I ever know but I never stop hoping that he will see the error of his ways no matter the cause. 🙏🏼
Susie, as always, your writing is exquisite. Your encounter with Monsieur brings to mind the idea that sometimes it happens that people can't simply be with their own pain and so they push it out onto others...onto trees and onto neighbors. If I was a betting woman, I'd wager that your quiet presence eased some of Monsieur's pain. Maybe he'll feel called to spare the other trees now. We can hope anyway!
Jenna thank you so very much, this is a beautifully kind and generous thought. I try to see the good in people, I always imagine that deep inside their hearts, even if they appear cold there is a warm patch just waiting to escape! I pray you are right about Monsieur, at the very least I hope I have given him cause to reflect on what he may be about to do... I never stop hoping! x
Our April has been much the same, and the rain continues... I grieve for all the trees on your hill that have fallen naturally (at least this is the cycle of life) and by human hands 😓
Same here Debs, worse, when I looked at the forecast for the next few days, I see two weeks of 💦showing, its a truly depressing thought for sure!
If Monsieur cuts down the trees he proposes, it will be the third lane that will no longer give its guardians standing along side, 65 have been felled so far - it breaks my heart! x
Oh that you WERE the one in charge, dear Susie. Your sensibility is exactly the friendship and stewardship Nature deserves to work quietly alongside. The brutality of humankind bulldozing its way thro life needs a counterbalance. Your words are such important reminders of what is important. Thank you.
I am not sure I am worthy of quite such high status Barrie, certainly though a servant to Mother Nature to ensure her work is untouched where necessary. This will be the third attack on the old oaks of the hill in the last 18 months.. 'un véritable carnage' that cannot be changed.
My thanks always Barrie, for reading and understanding.
We have a lovely friend who ‘kept’ bees who saw herself as a ‘guardian’. I think you’ve earned the title … guardian to the natural legacy, history and future’ of your hill. Long may you work with Nature.
Many Thanks Jan, it is more sad than I want to write about - I will concentrate on that which is left and staying dry! I do hope the weather is better where you are.... xx
Oh Susie, we are honored by your presence in the nature directory! And thank you for this post. It was so beautiful, and infuriating, and heartbreaking. The loss of even one oak is a blow.
Thank you Rebecca, that means so much to me.
In total over that week of rain, which really hasn’t stopped since, we have had seven old oaks slip from their rooted homes to their eventual resting place… and I am certain there will be more. It is the saddest sight to see… I cant help but worry for the further if the rest.
Wonderful details here. As for oak, my most revered tree, how my heart would be breaking to see them treated like inconvenient objects rather than the magnificent sentient beings they are. It is so difficult when one becomes aware of a neighbor doing something terribly destructive to nature “on their property,” I might say “Oh no! That’s so sad.” Since it affects everyone, not just them. But regardless, like in your case, I’m sure my face says it all….
It is a difficult subject to attend in these parts Carmine, the farmers are set in their ways and no matter what evidence can be given to convince them of the harm they may be doing. I say nothing… it is not my way to argue with tradition but I will never by in agreement with the felling of healthy trees, especially old healthy trees that can tell us so much, no matter how sad I feel.
Thank you so much for your kind and understanding comment… 🙏🏽
I’m certain your approach is the right one, keeping the peace with neighbors is important, but a sad situation.
Hi Susie,
This was heart-wrenching. Here in Japan, too, they cut down beautiful trees and bamboo forests. One of the latter was recently taken out near where I live to dig up the clay underground to be used for the pottery industry. Perhaps one day, I can see it in its natural state again.
But an ancient oak and its friends we won’t see in our lifetime.
Sending healing thoughts. 🌳
I have read of the bamboo forests disappearing Louise, like the rain forests we will never see them again and no, nor the big oaks… I understand that there is a certain amount of maintenance that must be undertaken but can it not be done in sympathy with our planet?
We live in times where money will always take precedence but it’s changing and gathering in the mists are people like us that care, it’s a start!
Thank you so much for reading, I wish you a peaceful rest of your day. X
Hi Susie, this is the first of your writing that I've read. I know we've passed each other in the halls of Substack but never stopped to speak. The way you write, the words disappear and I am standing beside you as we mourn the loss of a tree or celebrate the warmth of the sun. That's an incredible gift.
My mother has kept a journal every morning since I was born. The spirit of your writing reminds me of her. She sits in the stillness with her hurricane lamp and looks out at the fog or rain or the promise of a sunrise and translates what she feels into what she observes in the natural world.
Thank you for this beautiful piece. I'm so glad I found you this morning.
Ben I am more delighted than I can even begin to put into words that you have not only nipped by but stopped to read and enjoy my humble words too - thank you, belatedly so for which I give huge apologies. I am having notification issues… and overwhelm issues on top!
Spring is like that here….
I love thé description you give of your mother, you too have transported me to that spot where she sits, with her hurricane lamp watching and waiting for the day to begin… I would love to read her thoughts.
I need not wonder further as to where your own passion and uncontrollable brilliance for writing came from. 🍃
Thank you for your beautiful story. We are thinking a lot about trees these days. Up in the north where we live there are hardly any woods. We found out that we are tree people, we might even move back to the old place (which has on the other end far to many people...)
I hope the new week is good to you dear Susie.
Oh Elske, no trees??? I can understand your dilemma lovely, so well. I lived beside the sea in a town for a year, it was the only time in my life that I didn't live with trees surrounding me and whilst the sea was wonderful, it never replaced my longing for them. I hope you find somewhere perfect!
Thank you always for reading, I wish you a kind week also - with love xx
This is equal parts melancholy and beautiful, Susie. As always, we are there with you as you walk through your surrounds.
Umbels. I did not know this word but I very much appreciate now knowing this word.
"...a realisation that perhaps he has one too, though he's given me no sign of it in the past." The context is serious, but this made me smile because I know people just like this and catching those rare moments when you think that maybe they do have a heart. You phrased it perfectly.
You're very kind Nathan, thank you... 'Umbels' it always conjures a picture of many parts, these flowers I speak of have hundreds of tiny heads, and even more petals, they crowd the lanes in clouds of white - I'm glad you know this word too now!
I always try to see the very best of a person, we all have our weak spots after all, Monsieur's was obviously his mum, I don't think he could have hidden his love for her if he'd tried; I'm glad it was visible at that moment...
Thank you again, also, for sharing - I hope the week is gentle on you!
If only more of the world could always try to see the very best of each person. Then perhaps the planet wouldn't be in the state it's in. Spreading and showing empathy when possible is always a good thing.
I Googled umbel and found some more pictures to go along with your words. It's a great word.
The week is slowly improving, thanks. A lot of major deadlines are being knocked off (although there's a looming grant deadline that I just have no idea how I'm going to meet, but oh well...)
I hope the same for you.
Oh! That's moving, Susie. x
Thank you Roselle, in fact the halting of these trees being felled has been an on going sadness - I feel each time that I fail in the work of protector infant of these barbarians, despite trying my hardest to make them see the vast errors of their ways but they either don't or won't listen... it breaks my heart.
I hope you are well? and that your garden is advancing... mine is terribly behind still - cold weather last week wreaked havoc! :-( xx
So beautiful Susie. Your photos are just gorgeous - soft and delicate. Hopeful.
I could feel myself alongside you the whole way through your post. The smells of elderflower and gooseberry from Monsieur's mother's kitchen waft all the way to NZ.
Trees are everything. I also can't believe that people insist on being blind to this. Wishing you well. xx
Huge thanks Jo, I don't know why I continue to be shocked at the actions of these farmers, as guardians of the land, surely they have a responsibility to practice their task as they should? To look after the trees rather than fell them?
That scent though, it was heavenly....I'm glad it reached you there! xx
I’m very glad I found you.
I am honoured Will, thank you.
Beautiful! I'm sorry you didn't find the words you needed for a smile, but you touched some hearts with your writing and that is always a lovely thing. Your pictures, lovely as they are, have a dreamy, ethereal look to them, which really goes with the tone of your whole post. Very well done!! XO
What a very lovely and kind comment Danielle, if I touch just one heart I am happy, more than one is a dream come true... sometimes I use a special lens to achieve an ethereal effect, especially when I have forgotten my specs! ;-)
May sincerest thanks to you for taking the time to read this... xx
Absolutely this. Well said, Danielle.
Thank you! 😘 XO
Susie, wonderfully written. We have missed your words here. I wonder what sadness has occurred in monsieur's life to blind him to the beauty of nature and its healing qualities. It is unfortunate that there are so many like him and so few like us.
My warmest thanks Matthew, I find it a curious thing that he understands so little of the importance of nature when I consider the fact that his father was a botanist, a strange and sad rebellion perhaps, or yes, maybe you are right too, maybe there was an irreparable sadness I know not the details of.. nor will I ever know but I never stop hoping that he will see the error of his ways no matter the cause. 🙏🏼
Susie, as always, your writing is exquisite. Your encounter with Monsieur brings to mind the idea that sometimes it happens that people can't simply be with their own pain and so they push it out onto others...onto trees and onto neighbors. If I was a betting woman, I'd wager that your quiet presence eased some of Monsieur's pain. Maybe he'll feel called to spare the other trees now. We can hope anyway!
Jenna thank you so very much, this is a beautifully kind and generous thought. I try to see the good in people, I always imagine that deep inside their hearts, even if they appear cold there is a warm patch just waiting to escape! I pray you are right about Monsieur, at the very least I hope I have given him cause to reflect on what he may be about to do... I never stop hoping! x
Our April has been much the same, and the rain continues... I grieve for all the trees on your hill that have fallen naturally (at least this is the cycle of life) and by human hands 😓
Same here Debs, worse, when I looked at the forecast for the next few days, I see two weeks of 💦showing, its a truly depressing thought for sure!
If Monsieur cuts down the trees he proposes, it will be the third lane that will no longer give its guardians standing along side, 65 have been felled so far - it breaks my heart! x
😢
Oh that you WERE the one in charge, dear Susie. Your sensibility is exactly the friendship and stewardship Nature deserves to work quietly alongside. The brutality of humankind bulldozing its way thro life needs a counterbalance. Your words are such important reminders of what is important. Thank you.
I am not sure I am worthy of quite such high status Barrie, certainly though a servant to Mother Nature to ensure her work is untouched where necessary. This will be the third attack on the old oaks of the hill in the last 18 months.. 'un véritable carnage' that cannot be changed.
My thanks always Barrie, for reading and understanding.
We have a lovely friend who ‘kept’ bees who saw herself as a ‘guardian’. I think you’ve earned the title … guardian to the natural legacy, history and future’ of your hill. Long may you work with Nature.
I would like to be in that old Italian lady's kitchen.
Oh the trees! Too much sadness.
Oh Lisha, you really would - I will never forget that scent or the kitchen!
And yes, the trees are a true and heavy sadness. I carry it daily... xxx
This is beautiful and so sad.
Many Thanks Jan, it is more sad than I want to write about - I will concentrate on that which is left and staying dry! I do hope the weather is better where you are.... xx
pretty torrential downpour over the weekend but dry today -- still cold though :)
Freezing! The seasons are so confused! we had the most terrible wind over the weekend and violent storms Saturday night - mercifully no damage though.
it is weird -- I'm in awe of how the plants are coming through anyway -- I just want to huddle in the warm!