The sycamore is a tall tree of hedgerows, parklands and woodlands. It came to these islands from Europe, in the 15th or 16th century, and has become naturalised since, as familiar to most of us as the oak and the horse chestnut. Its winged seeds – children think of them as helicopters, but those of a botanical bent know to call them samaras – combined with its determined adaptability, enable it to colonise all kinds of habitats, however harsh or inhospitable.
It is a stoical sort of tree: strong, forbearing, reliable. In maturity, the great dome of its branches are cathedral-like, seen from below. Here is beauty, shelter and peace. To adapt Martin Luther King, if it was made from silver or gold, it could not be any more valuable.
