Trees Scattered Across Jane Austen's England

August 6, 2011

For me, the magic of a tree lies beyond the color and shape of its leaves or the silhouette it creates against the skyline. I love knowing it has been a witness to time. I’m convinced each tree is a diary of the lives it has sheltered from the sun.

The oak trees scattered across Jane Austen’s England, hold the intimate secrets of days when there were no street lights. Sitting beside a country road that may still be there, this gnarled friend of the past stood quietly as carriages took ladies of the local gentry and aristocracy to visit their neighbors for tea. Many evenings would pass without a single traveler at a time when events were planned around the light of the moon.

If I passed by that tree today, I would wonder what the tree heard back then when every day life had a completely different sounds. Mother Nature’s thunder might have been the big event. The clop, clop of a single horse and rider would have mingled with occasional conversation, buzz of bumblebees, and birds that landed on the limbs. I’m inclined to think this was a time when many trees were becoming used to eavesdropping on the lives of people.

I wonder if the trees noticed the changes in color. The seasonal wildflower beauty was now accompanied by spring blossoms of crops growing across the landscape and flower gardens on estates. Pamona green and Paris green gowns mingled with the different shades of leaves, stems, and grasses. Young men who were called fops or tulips of the ton wore shocking combinations of colors giving the trees a parade of changing hues and tones.

John O’Donohue wrote, “Because we tend to place ourselves at the centre of the spaces we occupy, we inevitably view these spaces in terms of how they house us. We rarely consider them in relation to how they might feel as a shape of embrace.” When I pass a tree, I feel it gently considering me; I often wish I knew how to tree-speak so we could have a conversation about the wonders of the past.

Notes along the way... Jeanne McElvaney
It you want to share this on Facebook, click "Like"'