Write the summary of the story “for the love of trees".
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I used to climb trees when I was young (and I still, on occasion, do). As a boy in Iraq I had a favoured loquat tree, with branches that bore leathery, serrated leaves, shiny on the upper surface, and densely matted with fine hairs underneath. It seemed so big, though I now reflect it was probably rather small. I would haul myself up and over the lowest branch, making whatever use of the twists and folds of the trunk as provided purchase to my small feet. Standing atop the lowest branch provided a keen sense of achievement, and revealed new vistas of adventure further up. Penetrating the upper layers where branches were more plentiful was easier, but was accompanied by the excitement of increasing exposure. A buzz of excitement would envelop me, as did the leaves around me, on reaching the upper canopy. Comfortably ensconced within the sweep of a branch, I would remain perched for a good many minutes, on some occasions hours, surveying the passage of time below. People passed, oblivious to my gaze, though they interested me little. Far more exciting were spiders and ants that wandered across the trunk and leaves. Insects came and went. Birds fluttered in, cleverly exploiting holes in the netting that clearly failed to protect the fruits. They did not mind me much if I remained still and quiet. I began to create new worlds in that tree. On moving to Britain, still a fairly young boy, I did the same, though this time it was a tall weeping willow that became my second home. Resting my ear against the tree revealed strange sounds which to this day perplex me.
I use to climb trees when I was young (and I still, on occasion, do). As a boy in Iraq I had a favoured loquat tree, with branches that bore leathery, serrated leaves, shiny on the upper surface, and densely matted with fine hairs underneath. It seemed so big, though I now reflect it was probably rather small. I would haul myself up and over the lowest branch, making whatever use of the twists and folds of the trunk as provided purchase to my small feet. Standing atop the lowest branch provided a keen sense of achievement, and revealed new vistas of adventure further up. Penetrating the upper layers where branches were more plentiful was easier, but was accompanied by the excitement of increasing exposure. A buzz of excitement would envelop me, as did the leaves around me, on reaching the upper canopy. Comfortably ensconced within the sweep of a branch, I would remain perched for a good many minutes, on some occasions hours, surveying the passage of time below. People passed, oblivious to my gaze, though they interested me little. Far more exciting were spiders and ants that wandered across the trunk and leaves. Insects came and went. Birds fluttered in, cleverly exploiting holes in the netting that clearly failed to protect the fruits. They did not mind me much if I remained still and quiet. I began to create new worlds in that tree. On moving to Britain, still a fairly young boy, I did the same, though this time it was a tall weeping willow that became my second home. Resting my ear against the tree revealed strange sounds which to this day perplex me.
I am far from unique in my love of climbing trees. Most boys and girls do the same, and a good many adults trace their love of trees from their childhood ramblings within them. We have a strong sense of connection with trees which is often difficult to articulate. People readily hug or pat trees, but with no clear sense of purpose – it just feels good and right to do so. We display an affection and tenderness for trees that we might show for a friend or family member. Our societies also nurture deep seated reverence for trees and woodlands, which are often symbolic of our origins. Ancient woodlands captivate us, perhaps for the sense of continuity that they provide to our past. Trees are woven into the fabric of our folkloric literature.
While we cherish our trees and woodlands we also, paradoxically, exploit them for their timber, and clear them entirely to make way for fields, houses and roads. Industrial exploitation of woodlands for fuel, timber, and agricultural land has a long history. The Romans discovered to their cost that woodland clearance leads to soil loss and the siltation of harbours. In the centuries following the Norman conquests in Britain, forests became sources of wealth, and new forest laws secured exclusive access to those with power.