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The leaning tree has always fascinated me. When we took our evening summer strolls in the neighborhood the leaning tree has drawn our eyes like a hypnotizing magnet with her off-kilter trunk and oversized hanging boughs; the tree was a veritable giant rising above the tree tops that surrounded her and the slowly drifting waters of the Coldbrook that eroded the banks and exposed her roots also reflected her massive glorious beauty in a surreal picture of natural beauty! We would often stop on the bridge and prop our elbows on the rails and gaze at the somehow delicate form that seemed to defy gravity.
To me the leaning tree reminded me of the strong vibrant people I have ever known who, through will, luck or destiny, were afflicted with some inevitable condition that would foretell their demise years in advance. We would often stop upon the bridge and I would say “It won’t be long now!” referring to the tall tree whose roots seemed to hold on for dear life as her trunk continued to lean more and more every year.

While we all know that an end comes to all stories, even the most beautiful, it was hard for me to cross the bridge on a sunny day last week and see the leaning tree being un-ceremoniously brought down without feeling saddened as if I were watching someone succumb to the forces…and no matter how much I wanted to change things…it was beyond my control!
The leaning tree, to me, was the mature grandmother of the Knowlton area rising above her children and grandchildren and I will miss her presence on Victoria Street! As she grew older and older she began to increasingly feel the effects of gravity, erosion and age…much like we all do and in the end, for the safety of the region, she had to come down.
Taking this gentle giant down took longer than I expected. I was driving by when I saw a crew crawling on the tree stripping her boughs and tying the winch to bring her down. Sawdust was drifting as the chainsaw teeth roared and chomped at the leaning tree trunk which measured over 3 feet in diameter. A lone resident with a camera came to the bridge to take pictures and one motorcyle stopped as he drove by and watched.

To me, on that warm sunny day...it was as if a loyal Canadian soldier who had spent a career protecting & watching over us had been suddenly taken down the line of duty and in the end only a handful of veterans turned out to say good-bye. Ok...maybe it was not as dramatic...but I can still see the sawdust blowing towards me as the leaning tree resisted being taken down for over an hour...and I felt a reeal surge of emotion taking me back through years of seeing that faithful leaning tree looking back at me...
Sometimes it is a simple natural wonder that can define a moment or a place in time…I think that for me the leaning tree made a mark on myself and maybe many people who ever saw her...despite the rapid complications of modern life I will have a special place in my heart for the patience and inherent simplicty of that leaning tree and the symbolism that such a fragile giant brings to us...

Sometimes it only takes a tree to make a difference...and often, when a single tree disappears, it can mean much more...
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