…quite literally. Near to the hawthorn that I posted about yesterday that was opening like a cupboard door, sat this weeping ash (Fraxinus excelsior ‘Pendula’). Facing southward, it stands on the peak of a hill in an old churchyard. It is well and truly battered by the elements, taking the brunt of the prevailing south-western winds. Despite this, it stands with good form, and a rather thick stem. The view this tree has on a daily basis almost makes one jealous; looking down into the marshes and into the distance beyond, you must be able to see for at least twenty miles from this vantage point. One of its companions, the hawthorn, is however now gone. Only a yew remains, nearby.
A silent vigil, now almost alone.