“…our tree.”

~~ Anon.

[Photo: Google search]

I’ve never seen the tree. Several years ago, on a trip to Scotland and England, we drove along the eastern coast toward London. We passed Hadrian’s Wall. As usual, we were rushing to a hotel to make the check-in time. I didn’t realize then how close we were. If I had the information and the time, I would have driven the extra miles to see this tree.

It was a legendary tree in so many ways–being made famous in the movie Robin Hood with Kevin Costner.

“This is my land, and my tree…“

The Bishop of Newcastle said that the tree bore “a pastoral load” of worries and pain of the local folk. Ashes were scattered under the tree, proposals made, loves consummated, hearts broken and kisses bestowed. For generations, it was an ingrained symbol of personal and communal landscapes.

A botany of desire.

In the darkness of late night of September 27 or in the morning glow of September 28, someone with a 28″ chainsaw felled this sacred tree.

[Photo: Google search]

With so many things that I cannot wrap my brain around these days: i.e., the selection of a right-wing religious fanatic to the Speaker of the House, the horror of the Israeli/Palestine conflict and other disheartening events, I found this story hurting me in a strange way. Obvious but still strange. Vandalism is an illogical and dispiriting act. Teenagers (mostly boys, I’m afraid), tipping over headstones in old mossy cemeteries. I’ve seen my share of this destruction and often wondered how some mind could say to itself: “Yes, I see that this stone has a family history engraved in the marble, but I will topple it into the mud. And for added agony on the descendants, I will make sure the name and birth dates and death dates are face down.”

Or, “I see a clean face on a building that I don’t own. Its the living space for strangers. Nevertheless, I will treat the wall as if were only mine and spray my unique ‘tag’ to the smooth granite.”

Or, “I hate your mosque.” “I hate your Temple”…therefore I will bomb it. Destroying your faith a little more, because I don’t understand it and therefore I hate.”

And, closer to home…”I am afraid of you. I am afraid of your body. It will lead me to sin. Therefore, I will tell you what to do with your body…because I am a man and you are merely, in the end, property.

And not to forget…”I believe that God hates you. There are only two sexes, the Bible says so. Therefore, you are violating God’s commandments if you think you can love anyone you choose, regardless of gender.”

My tree, the one I have never seen, may seem minute and insignificant. But, to me its just a symptom of an illness in our society. The disease of hate and intolerance.

I’m not naive enough to think that it’s only the here and now. This sort of thing that has existed for millennia.

It’s just sad that we haven’t grown as a collective soul…as the sole stewards of this isolated planet. It boggles my mind to think that there are people out there, friends and politicians who actually believe that climate change is a hoax. If it wasn’t so dangerous, it would be funny…that people can deny satellite imagery and field studies and instead believe the lies that are fed them by those who will benefit from their ignorance. What a joke. What a tragedy.

Small planet, small ideas from small intellects, and small minds.

I feel so lonely. I feel so afraid for my children and grandchild. I feel gloomy about our future.

[Note: The information about the Sycamore Gap Tree was published in the October 7th issue of The Economist.]