The Strength Within: our Mulberry tree and Me
(written by Hannah Velten in 2018) read the full article here
We have a very special tree in our garden. Right at the end, surrounded by decking, our white mulberry tree once stood unaided.
She was âThe Memory Treeâ of our villageâs open gardens day, bedecked with handwritten labels of favourite garden memories, birthday wishes and tributes to loved ones whoâd passed into the Heavenly garden. After 5 years of this magical service, it took over an hour to hang all the labels this June.
Perhaps it was the weight of the labels that did it?
Our Mulberry provided shade in the Summer. White, sweet fruits. A place to stop and rest for songbirds and pigeons. A calming energy.
Our Mulberry had already survived being burnt by the fire-pit flames (by a previous owner!), her scars were clear to see. She had survived hurricanes and storms dating back from the late 1800s. She had always been straight and true, strong and wide.
Perhaps it was just her time?
She had started to lean. We noticed after this long, dry, hot summer that the decking was beginning to rise up as she lifted. But she was only leaning a little to the left. Her long branches were beginning to cast a shadow over the neighbourâs garden.
Thinning her branches in the Winter, while she rested, would be the answer, we thought.
But then one day, we woke to find her fallen. Her only support being our neighbourâs fence.
What to do?
There were only two options â and we chose the most expensive one.
It just so happened that the tree surgeon who appeared to us was the one who specialised in saving trees. It would have been so easy to chop her down. She was beyond repair, right? It was her time to go. She was so heavily weighed down that sheâd been broken. How on earth could she be righted?
Down, and out?
Our tree surgeon, Josh, was bouncy. He was positive she could be saved. He would remove the decking around her, stake her, removed her heavy limbs, and see what would be. She was still alive, she was strong.
Then he knocked on the door. He was less bouncy. He wasnât sure he could save her. She was really fallen; the decking was holding her up, as was the fence. Expect the worst, was his message.
He disappeared back out into the wet and windy weather on his rescue mission. A while later he was back, with a loud rap at the door. And a smile as wide as could be.
âCome and see!â he said.
Our Mulberry, after severe amputation, had almost righted herself.
Wounded, but standing
She was wounded.
She was scarred, now, for life.
She was being propped up and held up. But she was a fighter.
Sheâs no longer a beauty. But sheâs survived her first test.
The strap holding her had to be replaced by a proper tree wire, so Josh would be back in a few days. But there were more storms forecast over the weekend. Would she hold up to further battering?
We didnât have to call Josh over the weekend. She survived.
Itâs up to her now
Sheâs now in recovery, with the correct (comfy) wires in place to keep her standing. Itâs now all up to her and the life force inside her.
Best case scenario, in the Spring, she will bud and Josh will return to tidy her up. A woman needs to look her best if sheâs to be âThe Memory Treeâ again.
As is often the way, when you start digging, you expose the rot. The decking is on its last legs. Itâs been patched up and repaired for the last few years and with Mulberry falling, itâs ripped up and broken. So this whole area will have to be redeveloped.
Itâs time for a change. Take out the decking and see whatâs underneath. Make plans for the Spring. Plants, patios, purpose: all need to be decided.
I have faith in our Mulberry. Sheâll be staked and upheld for a few years yet, until her roots are stabilised, but her purpose will not change. Fewer branches to hang memories from, but stronger.