Chopping down the trees

What is it with Kiwis and trees? We had a beautiful tree outside our house. It provided privacy, shelter, birdsong and greenery - with a blast of red when the flowers were in bloom. The next-door neighbours didn't like it. They have a BMW convertible which they park beneath it and the birds shat through their roof onto the leather upholstery.










I came home the other day to find it completely razed to the ground. The landlord did it. Obviously the neighbours had complained, although we weren't consulted about our thoughts. Now everyone from the cafe opposite can see directly into our bedroom window, and I can hear their screaming children with no shelter or protection.

My sister tells me there is a row of trees at the playcentre her child attends. The committee wants them chopped down because a stray branch might fall off and hit a child. My sister - bolshy little madam that she is - said she told them she would have nothing to do with their arboreal massacre. 'I simply cannot condone the chopping down of trees' she said, which may be slightly grandiose, but good for her!

Trees have history and dignity. They are romantic and poetic with gnarled roots and spreading branches. They have evocative names and curious seeds - whirling sycamore wings and glossy horse chestnuts. I love their leaves and blossoms - the colour, shelter, fruit and tranquility they provide. I'd rather have a tree than a parking-lot anyday. I just can't understand people who wouldn't. And it seems there are a lot of them in this country.

Dead Wood

As a woman of a certain age,

I am invisible to all

But advertising agencies who see me

As fertile soil for creams, treatments and poisons

To reduce wrinkles; enhance elasticity;

Stop sagging, drooping and dribbling;

Promote lustrous hair and shiny teeth,

So I can pretend I am not

The woman I am.

If I were a tree, I would be

Marked with a pink cross, spraypainted

On my spreading trunk so that

I can be removed; chopped down to size;

Cleared with the dead wood and sacrificed

On a pyre, to make way for the

Young thrusting saplings, because

I am blocking their light and

Stealing their nutrients.