I walked where I have often walked before,
And saw you lying there.
Once your branches spread
To shade and hold.
Now your arms are cut, and body felled.
Decayed and rotten from within
Your sturdy trunk grew old
And had to die.
Our walk at Kingston Lacy between showers yesterday took us past the body of a tree we knew well. It was planted in 1827 by the then Duke of Wellington. Nearly 200 years old, it had become internally rotten and had to be felled. So sad to see it die, but it is still magnificent, even as it lies there. And there is a sense of completeness; a new tree will be planted from its seed, and its wood used for seating around the gardens.