Ettalong loses tree that witnessed many stories

A beautiful tree was cut down recently in the Lance Webb Reserve on the Ettalong foreshore.

It was a eucalypt of a species once growing along the shore in this area, and now only a very few remain there.

It stood alone, tall and elegant, its canopy starred in winter, at the time it was felled, with lightly-scented white gum blossoms, humming with bees and loved by nectar-sipping birds, the open, leafy canopy helping with the other trees to soften the effect of onshore winds, and the root system holding the fragile, easily-eroded steep sand-edge above the beach.

The tree was familiar to me from my frequent walks over the past seven years to and from the now-diverted ferry.

Last week, on a casual walk there, I was shocked and grieved to see that it had been cut to a stump, a scattering of wilted blossoms and leaves on the ground around it indicating its very recent felling.

Over the many years that it has grown there, the tree has been witness to many changes, and to the human stories of the people who lived and walked near and around it.

For that reason it always seemed to me, as a passer-by, to have a special significance, as I remembered the three little cottages near it, one with two camellias growing by its doorway - one red, one pink - which continued to flourish long after the cottages were gone.

When the site was bulldozed for development I salvaged cuttings, but too late for them to survive.

The third cottage was lived in by a man and his cattle dog.

One morning as I walked to the ferry I heard the sound of a piano, and there was the man and a friend playing a tune on an old upright piano in the backyard while the dog sat in the sun nearby.

The tree seemed to be listening, too.

Less than a year later, in November 2013, the old cottage burned to the ground.

The man survived, with serious burns, but the dog died in the fire.

For many years later, kind and caring people left flower tributes on the fencepost near the blackened ground.

The old piano stood alone in the backyard until time and rain slowly destroyed it.

The tree was scorched but recovered.

Many other walkers and neighbours will have their own memories of this beautiful place and tree.

So as I stood and looked at the freshly-cut stump I thought of the cottages where the camellias grew, where the piano played while the cattledog sat in the sun, the water stretching away to Lion Island and beyond, and new people starting their new lives here, while the tall tree watched them all.

I don't yet know why the tree was felled, just wanted to share my concern and sadness at its loss, and my memories of its last few years, and ask: What is the future for the other trees in this reserve?

Email, 14 Jun 2018

Kristine Martin, Blackwall