Stop the Chop

One of the best things about our garden is the view of two ancient oaks in the vicarage garden next door. There are now few people who can remember the time  when our street was still farmland.  But these great trees bear witness.
They creak irritably and toss down twigs, but they are home to innumerable birds, insects, lichens and fungi.

Yet if they were out on the street, they would certainly have been chopped down as it is cheaper for the council to do that than to keep them pruned and in good order.

St Albans Council has decided to fell 300 trees (reduced to 250 after a complaint).
They claim some are diseased. Others merely 'in decline'. At sixty, what am I then?  In decline? Perhaps I too should be culled to cut costs to the NHS.

Even more shocking is the fact that these trees are being felled during the nesting season.
On Saturday we visited the condemned trees closest to us in order to make a peaceful protest and in each was at least one active nest. When the tree falls, the chicks will die.

Interestingly, when we stood round the stumps of two cherry trees which had been sawn down while in full blossom (one scheduled, the other taken down on a whim), nearby householders came out, angry at us 'tree huggers'. The trees had apparently been ruining their lives by shedding leaves and petals which blew onto their tidy drives. They were glad they were gone.

As they yelled at us, merely for taking photos of the stumps, they used the f word a lot, even though we had young children with us. It is no exaggeration to say their reaction was violent.  But it was odd since the trees were already felled and no protest on our part could possibly reinstate them.

Perhaps then, their fury might even have been a cause for hope - maybe deep down they were experiencing unease, realising that the unruly branches of a tree are more beautiful than the sterile tidiness they longed for.

What I wish for is that others can realise this BEFORE any more trees are chopped down.