by Grant Jenkins, The Tree Company
With the loss of so many trees to the storms of the winter particularly Ophelia, National Tree Week this year, from March 4-11, is an important prompt to consider the losses and how we could replant. We must remind ourselves of the continuity of nature and ensure nature itself has not been pushed too far. Being positive about our native species and giving them space to grow is the very least we should all be actively seeking to uphold, so we can always have access to, find refuge in, be inspired by, wonder under, tell secrets to, weave through, swing beneath, whisper amongst, contemplate deeply within, the very special primeval environment that once covered this island – the trees!
To celebrate National tree week 2018 we pay tribute to the most iconic of our native trees: the Irish Oak, or Duir, as the old Irish druids called it, Quercus petraea the latin, the official national tree of Ireland. Symbolising strength, courage, wisdom and truth and much more to different peoples over the years, it is still thought lucky to catch a falling Oak leaf today. It can grow up to 40 feet tall and live for hundreds of years some suggest as long as a thousand, the Oaks’ grand structure secures its regal status amongst the other natives. When mature, these broadleaf trees become host to anything up to 400 species of fungi, insects, spiders, birds and small mammals too, a busy hub, a conduit for survival for so many.
Enjoy National Tree Week, as there is plenty going on to join in with or choose and plant a tree to commemorate your own occasion. We’ll be pleased to post any tree week activities up on our facebook page so do let us know what you are all up to. Have Fun!
If you need any further information regarding this article or indeed any other tree matters please get in touch with us at The Tree Company, Ballydehob, Co Cork or email us at email@example.com or call our office on 028 37630.
The Regal Oaks
King of the Forest and Queen of the Woodland,
Statues of profound grasp and mastery.
Not gripping the earth but seizing it,
Running through it as veins.
Though not fast.
Years have led the magnificent oaks to their grandeur and crowned splendour.
Pushing up to meet the vault of heaven and down,
Down through silt and layers of years and years that they themselves have lived.
Living through the now and spread thin down,
Down among antiquity,
Seeking more and all knowing,
Through summer haze and days of wailing winds blowing.
Creaks and groans,
Cranky at night,
Or perhaps the old monarchs exchange whispers then,
Great majesties of the moss and moon.
All of us folk,
A palms press away from an oak door opening its realms,
These are relics indeed,
All in these wondrous lives still living.
By Bethan Jenkins