When the foliage fails, the American Elm reveals its graceful curves. The interlacing canopy above the Mall is gorgeous when green or yellow leaves filter the sunlight, yet no less so when bare branches form a tracery against the Winter sky.
But in Lent, we must think about the rot within.
The majesty of these Elms belies the plight of the species. Reduced by disease, the trees are no longer a dominant presence in our forests. Worse, at least by our standards, they once graced many a city street, and their disappearance coincided with the decrepitude of our inner cities, even as a widening ring of suburbs grew: the living rind around a rotting core. New landscapes were cut into what had been the landscape, and new trees were planted on grassy lawns, but Elms were not among them.
Protected by the island’s isolation, and the vigilance of the arborists, the Park’s Elms have been maintained. Their presence provides a vision of the past, but also a warning for the future...