An English In Kentucky


















November 8th 2010    Tim Candler

    I have ground to prepare for seven trees.   They will be two year old saplings, little babies.  And Deer will chew on them unless they are caged.   Which seems such an unfortunate beginning for a tree.   Nor are these cages in any way pleasing to the eye, so it takes several months to become mentally acclimatized to them.

    I don't believe a time ever comes when tree planting ends.  Limpet people, those who are rooted, may have planted trees forty or fifty years ago and are able now to see them as substantial, un-caged and well formed.  People like me, those on the brink, cannot look forty or fifty years into the future and then think back to when cages dominated landscape. 


    So I am probably doomed to tree cages, and better to consider them a form rather than a temporary inconvenience to the visual. 

    I could spray them in loud pink, or soften them by coloring them shine-less green or black, as the Artist prefers.   Yet I have found that neatness of a cage which can be easily removed for purposes of weeding, and other such ancillaries, serve that part of the day to day spent wandering around staring at things.  

    Then if it does not rain for months and months I can say "Yes! that's a really fine cage.  I think I'll keep it."  And go to bed happy.

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