Keeping a low profile

For some trees, being blown over isn't the end of the story.

- Jack Watkins

WHEN news broke that the Sycamore Gap tree, scenically located in a dip in the North-umberland stretch of Hadrian's Wall, had been felled by a couple of chainsaw-wielding hoodlums in 2023, reactions ranged from outright anger to puzzled dismay. Was there ever a more pointless act of environmental vandalism? At least the discovery of young shoots sprouting from the base last summer was a reminder of Nature's ability slowly to heal itself. Given the sycamore had been reduced to a low stump, it doesn't qualify as a 'phoenix tree' as yet; but, in decades to come, it may well do so.

Generally, however, we apply the term phoenix tree to specimens that were blown down in a storm and written off as dead, but which recovered to take on the proportions of a substantial tree once more. They are defined by their recumbent profiles and an air of tenacity in the face of unfavourable odds.

It was in the aftermath of the Great Storm of October 1987 that the standard response to fallen trees began to change. High winds raged across southern Britain and brought down an estimated 15 million trees, making them the most striking symbols of a single night's devastation. The countryside historian Dr Oliver Rackham conducted an inspection of many affected sites, expressing frustration at the rush to clear up the unsightly sprawl of uprooted trees when many were still alive. An American colleague, Henry W. Art, who at the time was a visiting fellow at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, accompanied Rackham on his excursions. In an essay in