Clare’s map of boyhood was full of trees, from the elm trees that rocked over his cottage to the hollow oaks and old willows in which he hid from pelting rain and prying eyes. They were his cradle, his robbers’ cave, his pulpit, his study and his refuge. They were his friends and he knew them as individuals whose passing he mourned as he mourned the loss of his first love, Mary Joyce. There seems little doubt that he felt for them the same constriction of the heart and the bottomless stomach that the rest of us experience from human loss.
Trees were the signposts of his daily rambles, the monuments of his tradition, the guardians of his dead and the symbols of changing time. Twice at least in his Journal Clare comments on stories about the rapid growth of trees in the Helpston neighbourhood and in terms that demonstrate the particularlity of his tree-observations.
Clare was concerned about maintaining the tree population of his environment, and in a sense the history of Helpston and of our poet, is that partly told in trees. Then came enclosure when, for the trees, a wholesale devastation took place.
Trees - In a Strange Stillness (Arbour Chapbook No. 6 - of double length) is available from me at £6.50 including postage and packing (UK). Not sure how much the postage would be to other parts of the world, but I'm sure I can let you know.
Kindle edition (PDF) is £2.50 - just send me a message to arborfield@gmail.com
Clare was concerned about maintaining the tree population of his environment, and in a sense the history of Helpston and of our poet, is that partly told in trees. Then came enclosure when, for the trees, a wholesale devastation took place.
Trees - In a Strange Stillness (Arbour Chapbook No. 6 - of double length) is available from me at £6.50 including postage and packing (UK). Not sure how much the postage would be to other parts of the world, but I'm sure I can let you know.
Kindle edition (PDF) is £2.50 - just send me a message to arborfield@gmail.com
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