It was hard work getting the patch of garden between the old stable block and the mill (around the Yew Tree) ready for the opening. Extreme gardeners were we, not to mention expert pratitioners of synchronised digging. This was quickly followed by extraction of plants frozen in their pots. Alas, all this effor was follow by yet another downfall of snow overnight. Happily the tree canopy had protected the area somewhat and the majority of the space revealed all. It looked very fine I thought. Kevin and Wayne from the Mill had, with a huge effort and great difficulty managed to get an old and extremely heavy millstone to the area and we planted around it and around the newly created circular tree seat and stepping stones. The scene looks very welcoming now for visitors as they enter the grounds of the mill from the car park. Currently, after all that snow,the ground is currently remarkably dry.
Some of us were discussing the Yew Tree and its possible age. Readers might, perhaps, be a little interested in the following details I have gleaned from various sources.
"The yew is an unsmooth tree on the outside
Held firm in the earth, roots twisting beneath
Guardian of fire and a joy on the land"
The above quote is taken from an Anglo Saxon Rune poem; one which I am sure Tolkien would have known well. Those of us digging the ground can testify to the roots ‘twisting beneath’.
Yew is one of the trees used to symbolise the mystical Irminsul, the world tree that our ancestors saw as a metaphor for the cosmos. It might appear on its surface to be just a rough tree. But in its upper branches lies the kingdom of Heaven; the realm of God, the Ælfe or Angels. Situated at the top of the tree, this is the highest spiritual level - the place we all like to get to as we make our spiritual journey. In the lower branches of the tree lies the kingdom of Middengeard or middle earth, our own mortal realm where we live now. The three roots of this great tree pass through the earth, down through the primal world of Hel, the place our ancestors saw as the realm of darkness and shadows.
Yew is far slower growing than other forest trees, because it is laying down hard, close-grained wood. This gives great strength to the trunk and branches providing durable wood for carving and turning as well as making bows for archers.
“With age the yew becomes less straight, 'an unsmooth tree . . . roots twisted in the earth' as the Rune Poem says, but it does not lose its strength. Trees know nothing of old age or death: they grow on and on until accident finishes them off. It is growth itself which makes them vulnerable."
Each year a fresh ring is added to the trunk and branches. Each successive ring is larger than the last, while the crown of leaves stays the same, having reached a point beyond which the framework of the tree can support no more. At last most trees will snap under their own weight, or keel over in storms. The yew has other ideas. It can turn disease into an advantage by allowing fungal infections to eat up its heartwood, leaving a hollow tree which, because the twisted wood is so strong, continues to support the heavy crown of leaves. Meanwhile branches loop down under their own weight until they touch the ground, and there they set root. A young branch may even touch down into the leaf mould inside the hollow trunk, and then the tree renews itself from within; or the spread of disease may split the trunk into staves, each bowing out to root itself individually, so that a single tree is transformed into a grove. The last trick of the yew defeats time itself. The tree simply stops growing. There is no increase in girth, no annual ring. Having reached a sufficient size, it remains stable; it may resume growth, or perhaps not.
It is not easy then to discover the age of a yew tree without examining the rings and many authorities until recently gave up speculating. However, a very rough and ready guide I found would be to estimate 1 foot around the girth of the tree to equal 25-30 years. The girth of this particular yew is nearly 5 feet, indicating an age of approximately 140 years old. So we might conjecture that a seedling ‘took’ around 1870.
Yew is found often in churchyards but pre-dates Christianity. In pagan times it was considered sacred. There appears to be no evidence of any particularly sacred remains at Sarehole. Plus, yew is very toxic to animals, particularly horses so I would think that a sapling might well be pulled up. Deliveries of grain would have been by horse and cart and at one point there were pigsties.
Perhaps it was during the periods of metal rolling taking place at the mill that this seed became firmly established, being less of a threat. Perhaps that particular patch of ground lay unused long enough for the tree to establish itself permanently, its seed having been carelessly dropped from a passing bird, allowing the seed to grow steadily and possibly for some years unnoticed; evergreen through all the seasons to stand now looming proudly over the new seat around its waist. Now we may sit and admire the Sarehole Yew at our leisure.
No comments:
Post a Comment