I walked up there today, to the site of the great Battle of Arbour. I looked across the land and saw the stumps all overgrown like tombstones. They’d sent them there when young, to grow, acclimatise and fill the land with life and habitat.
Then one day the invaders came in trucks, shouting and buzzing the machinery of war. The defenders stood their ground all dressed in green and were cut down in swathes, cut down in their prime, stripped of their green and piled high up to the sky.
Here now at the end of today, at the setting of the sun, I look across the cold snow covered land and remember them. I shivered and remembered them again and rushed home to light the wood burner.