Pollarding

We’ve had the two giant lime trees that stand beside Dunn’s Barn reduced in height and pollarded. This should be done every five or so years, as there’s a danger of the branches growing too long and snapping. Our limes had not been touched for years and being next to a footpath and both our and our neighbours homes, urgently needed attention.  Already there is vigorous regrowth.

But until Saturday, I’d not seen pollarding as anything more than good tree management. Now, after visiting White House Farm, Great Glemham I’m seeing pollarding very differently. It all started with a chance conversation with artist Julian Perry on the train from Ipswich to Saxmundham.  I mentioned our pollarded lime trees, and Julian invited me to visit an exhibition of his work at Glemham.

Julian’s exhibition was the climax of what the show catalogue describes as the ‘pollard residency’, and as I learned, pollarding is an ancient practice that has stimulated his creativity for years. I discovered that painters have been fascinated in pollarding for years. Albrect Durer, for example, painted Jerome beside one in 1612, and Rembrandt captured the same scene 130 years later.

There is something quite spiritual about the way a pollarded tree re-grows that is not too dissimilar from the way ploughing a field also marks renewal and regrowth. I’ll reflect on this thought and see what I might feel moved to write as a result.