Treetop Therapy

It is a line from a modern American poem that "only God can make a tree".

Yes, alright, I had not heard of it before coming across it on my most recent viewing of the movie "Groundhog Day" where it features in a brief moment of tranquility in the otherwise, to that point, tormented 24 hour existence of the lead character.

I can well relate to the calming influence of trees as they have for me and for many of us in temperate climates, played a role in our lives be it in an urban park, a rural scene, alongside a regular travelling route or on a mountainside.

For many years our family enjoyed a sizeable Elm tree which dominated the back garden of our house. It was a constant reminder of nature from the sometimes frightening movement of the boughs in the thick of a springtime storm to the quiet and cool shadows cast in the height of summer.

For such a strong natural structure, seemingly to us children like an impregnable tower, its slow decline and eventual demise from the disease that struck at the stock of Elms across the country and northern Europe felt like the bereavement of a faithful and reliable companion.

Now in my adult years I am back amongst mighty trees.

We live in a city park. From the second floor bedroom level my view, on drifting off to sleep and awakening in the morning, is one of the huge canopy of a horse chestnut tree, one of many that ring the central green space and were originally planted out as vulnerable saplings in the 1860's.

I am not currently sleeping well in the recovery stage from an accident that has much reduced my mobility.

The view into the tree is my reference point in the early hours when I cannot get comfortable.

I have a renewed wonder at the arrival of the first summertime hour sunlight which is as early as 4am.

The solid mass of the trunk and main boughs begin slowly to take on their true three dimensional form. Just before this I can just follow with my finger the black outline of the tree . In doing so  I can imagine trying to capture the majesty and sheer strength of the dense wood in pencil lines or pastel paint but I fall well short every time.

Gradually the light makes it way through and then over the park buildings on the eastern side bringing a multitude of shades of gold, silver, mercury, bronze and all on the yellow/green spectrum. It strikes the new leaf canopy growth and reflects in shade and tone onto the smooth grey bark.

Occasionally a movement in the boughs takes my attention from the developing scene.

At first I am not sure what it is and then I realise that it is the shadow of an ill defined, distorted yet fast moving shape. Within a second a squirrel makes its way deftly along the boughs, leaping with grace and no tangible impact fully across my line of sight before disappearing beyond the scope of the window opening.

In recent weeks we have been privileged to have a woodpecker in residence with all of the noise that goes with that. Regular visitors in the boughs include chubby pigeons, magpies and robins.

The location of the park in urban surroundings makes for a comparatively sheltered environment and even in the strongest storm conditions elsewhere in the city the Victorian planting ensures little exposure to potentially violent conditions which in more exposed areas could easily lead to falling boughs and instability.

I feel that my private view into the canopy of the tree is contributing in a very positive way to my current period of convalescence.

It is true in my belief and experience that only God can make a tree.