The tree of life
Oh! rowan tree.
How fair wert thou in simmer time, Wi’ a’ thy clusters white, How rich and gay thy autumn dress, Wi’ berries red and bright. From the song ‘The Rowan Tree’ by Lady Nairne (1766–1845)
STANDING sentinel on some lonely crag, the rowan is the last tree before the summit. On the descent from the sky, rowan is the first tree man meets. The rowan grows at bleak heights, 3,200ft above sea level, where no other native tree can cling to life. It is hardy, fierce-rooted, resistant to the frost, the cold and the wind. The rowan’s feather-shaped leaves bear
