Would You Cut Down This Tree?

Have you ever noticed how our newsreaders like to give us a sense of the scale of the particular catastrophe that they are describing? For example” a sinkhole as deep as two double decker buses has opened up in a supermarket parking lot in Ohio”, or “a fire covering the area of ten football pitches is raging out of control in an industrial estate in Edgeworthstown”. Do people really have trouble envisioning something without these tricks or is it true what I hear all the time; I just can’t visualize it? The fact that most people don’t really notice, read or pick up on the minutiae of visual information could be the reason that we’re so flippant about our attitude to public space.

Is it really the case that I belong to such a tiny minority who are bothered by these things and that the majority of the populace genuinely couldn’t care less about the shape of that traffic island, the height of that kerb, the species of that tree planted in that spot, that concrete block wall which remains unrendered thirty years after it was built?

I’m starting to think we are regarded in a manner similar to that which is usually reserved for the friendly local grammar Nazi (“Michael and I not me and Michael”.) Nod dutifully and feign interest in their protestations and suggestions but ultimately care not a jot. “I can see this is important to you Fred so out of politeness I won’t get up and walk out of the room and you mid- sentence but if you think you can verbally batter me into becoming emotionally invested in the position of a comma or, in this case, a mature Fagus sylvatica fastigiata well I’m afraid you have another thing coming.”

Of course the general feeling is that the level of emotional investment in the common landscape seems to be directly proportionate to prevailing local socio- economic conditions but this is not always the case. I can think of thriving tidy towns committees and community activism happening in all sorts of places, some that we would traditionally regard as being somewhat less than Ritzy.

It’s one thing to question the process by which our entire built environment comes into being, it’s another to just accept the slice of it that your community has inherited and simply get on with the job of trying to make it look as good as you can.  We have spoken of how it would be virtually impossible to produce a pleasing and coherent suburban environment given the demented nature of our planning processes. The battle on that front is for the long haul.

In the meantime we get two foot high kerbs like we just did down at the Standhouse Road and Morristown Road junction for which there is no discernible motive or excuse. The Cliffs of Moher lite.  Does Newbridge Silverware around the corner not already bring in enough Americans? How did they categorise that expense over in the county council offices I wonder; tourist infrastructure or roads infrastructure? Suffice it to say that memos were circulated.

An uncle of mine has a long narrow back garden at the bottom of which stands a majestic two hundred year old beech tree. This is the house where he grew up. He recently told me of his love for that tree and the memories it triggers of his childhood spent with his friends climbing it and playing underneath it. The tree has always been there, a casual observer of all these lives unfolding under its canopy.

The same uncle went on to tell me of the number of visitors to his house over the years who have asked him why he doesn’t cut it down.  It’s not sick, it’s not a hazard. There it is just minding its own business, a big beautiful beech tree. “The size of that yoke, why don’t you cut it down ”?

They are amongst us. Be careful out there.