THE TWEED VALLEY

~ 1 ~

From the branch the leaf must fall,
But the tall tree it still stands,
Providing life for one and all,
With a million wrinkled hands.
A tower of strength a monument,
To all those folk who care,
And live their lives in gross torment,
Now the tree is no longer there.
Where those woods once cast their shade,
Upon the wondrous growth below,
There used to be a grand parade,
Of animals there you know...
But now the sod long turned by spade,
Will not a sapling grow

~ 2 ~

The rolling hills are emerald green,
Where the cattle graze today,
Not a single tree can there be seen,
For they have all been cleared away.
Once there the Ceder red and round,
With massive girth and tall,
Grew in profusion from the ground,
Where now grows naught at all,
But grass and thistles in the Sun,
In shallow rocky Earth,
Where murder was by humans done,
Turning forest land to turf,
For few it seems or maybe none,
Know what tree's are really worth.

©Copyright August 4, 2004 by Colin F. Jones

When I was 14-15 I worked in the forest with two very fine Axe-men, cutting timber. We had no chain saws then, and indeed most trees were cut down long before chain saws were invented. We used the Axe and Crosscut saw (black snake).

On our Dairy Farm we cleared a 15 acre paddock, stacked the timber and the following year planted the ground with Peas. We used two horses, Prince and Dolly, for dragging the logs and for ploughing and to tow the seed dropper.

I love trees, and love the forest; where I was born and bred, they were a profound part of my life. I recall in the 50s on a train trip from Sydney seeing mile after mile of trees "ring barked" and thousands of acres of dead grey trees, not even used for anything ... killed to provide more grazing areas for cattle. This country was never meant for hard footed animals like cattle.