The tree beams in its sinewy nudity with barely a blush for the lack of leaf it is renowned to uphold throughout the winter. Meanwhile the hornbeam hedging of adjacent squares are in full coppery foliage, curled and ready for the seasonal onslaughts
Still encased behind the ongoing road works, the scene is unattractively urban. Behind is the Institute of Archaeology, which commemorated its 75th anniversary in 2012 by planting this Carpinus betulus.
Not much older than a sapling, the Hornbeam tree flexes its youthful muscles, which will become less distinct with age. This contouring, coupled with the iron hardness of the wood, makes it unsuitable timber for carpentry but it burns slow and long, and is ideal for charcoal and firewood..
This will be the last sighting of the Hornbeam as 2015 will bring another tree to bear but I will keep a weather eye on it, for as long as it and I remain neighbours.
On this special Christmas edition of Tree Following, Lucy has encouraged us to celebrate our trees with song, verse, art etc For me there is no better accolade to Hornbeams than Felix Dennis’s eponymous poem. So I went along to Golden Square and captured this image to illustrate the poem. It lacks the snow but WordPress snowflakes add a wintry flavour.
“I walked alone in Golden Square
One bitter, solitary night,
The littered streets were cold and bare
With scarce another soul in sight,
The coward lamps flung out their glow,
Chrome yellow on the Soho snow.
St. Stephen’s bells began their dance,
I turned to pace my jaundiced way
To Kingly Street, and then, by chance,
I felt a snowdrift ricochet
From off my shoulder — raised my eyes
And froze mid-step in mute surprise.
High up above those streets of woe
Four massive hornbeams clawed the sky,
Each bough a silhouette of snow,
A sight to paralyse the eye,
To stun the mind and warm the heart
That nature might produce such art.
How long I stood and gazed aloft
I do not know — then heard a voice
Say ‘You alright?’ The words were soft
But coppers leave you little choice:
‘Yes thanks,’ I said, and met his stare.
He watched me as I crossed the square;
Yet I was musing while I stole
On beauty’s power to heal the soul,
And turning back, I chanced to see
A man entranced beneath a tree,
His head bent back, yet strangely bare,
His helmet doffed — as if in prayer.”
With many thanks to Lucy for hosting Tree Following: There’s a link box on Loose and Leafy on 7th of the month for 7 days. Every month!
And am also following Pat@The Squirrel Basket who also is shadowing a Hornbeam