The last branch of the ancient willow by the river is down. It had been hanging on for some months, a crack near its base of about an inch wide. But it was in a place where none but the owners would walk, and they told the wood-man to leave it to nature to do the felling. It would bring down, in falling, a couple of ashes in the plantation, but it would be dangerous to try to meddle with it. Now only the stump, about eight feet high, stands; but life goes on, for through the bark of the same trunk two willow shoots, one about an inch-and-a-half thick and all of six feet high are creeping along the old wreck, and eventually they may take over, feeding on the crumbling interior.
When the tree lost its crown, no one remembers, but for years only two huge branches spread along the field edge. The first of them to fall, a couple of years ago, all of three feet in diameter, gave one of the family the idea that slicing it in rings of about six inches thick would make rustic table-tops. One young man brought home two and made an artistic feature with them in his conservatory. Much admired. This latest branch is less thick but uses will be found for it. It was measured at 20 paces, generously thought to be 60 feet. Away back, 30 and more years ago, two little sisters from a nearby farm had their secret place in the platform where the branches spread out. From home, they could not be seen, though only a few score yards away. In later days duck would sometimes nest there.
A century-and-a-half ago, one expert reckons, a local landlord planted willows along much of this little river. Some are still awaiting the next storm, their roots exposed by the rushing waters of winter. H. L. Edlin tells us in his Collins Guide to Tree Planting and Cultivation that Salix alba forms a large tree with a rather untidy, wide-spreading crown. It rarely grows erect (this did, more or less) "and it tends to fork low down." This one did. Then he gives us Salix fragilis, of which he remarks: "Not a desirable tree for planting save in the rare instance when a patch of damp rough ground must be filled with something that is acceptable to the eye and is virtually indestructible." Well, it is still standing and it stands on what, before the Boyne drainage, was a fine damp spot. It has lovely chestnut-red bark. Still standing, remember. Y