Location: The John Muir Country Park near Dunbar, Scotland
This event took place on : Keeper of the Soils walk, by North Lights Arts
Preparation: I asked everyone to pick up a cone and practise playing it like a thumb piano, and a dead branch (for snapping when the time comes).
Natalie Taylor (@artforalluk on twitter), Keeper of the Soils, had chosen one of the trees which fell down in the storm. Half the group stood at the head of the tree and half at its foot. This is following an old burial tradition in which half the mourners would stand at the deceased’s head and half at her feet while the lament was sung.
Lament for the Scots Pine
(all together) “We stand at your head”
“We stand at your feet”
“And I keep watch over your trunk”
Hail Scots Pine!
Straight your stem
Contained, your goblet of leaves,
Slate-grey your coat
Needles the green of the waves,
We see you
(the group repeats) We see you.
Hail Scots Pine!
Silent you lie
When once the wind sounded you,
Woodpecker knocked
We play your cones with our thumbs,
We listen to you
(the group repeats) We listen to you.
Hail Scots Pine!
Rough your bark
Cold to my palm your branch
Dry your scales
Stroke the smooth lumber inside,
We touch you
(the group repeats) We touch you.
Hail Scots Pine!
To sniff your scent
We must-break one of your boughs
Clearing my nose.
Fragrant the resin which oozes.
We smell you
(the group repeats) We smell you.
Hail Scots Pine!
Bitter my tongue,
Salt in the air and through you.
Peppery mint,
Sweet honeydew loved by wasps.
We taste you
(the group repeats) We taste you.
Tasted ocean,
Listened to Hedderwick Burn
Smelled the river,
Watched gulls and deer.
We applaud you
(the group repeats) We applaud you.
Tickled by squirrels,
Rain wetted your canopy.
Shivered by snow,
The wind blew you right over.
We mourn you
(the group repeats) We mourn you.
Grown from seed,
Might have lived 7-hundred years.
Closely planted
Could have grown-more-than 1-hundred feet.
We keen for you
(the group repeats) We keen for you.
Pinus sylvestris
All identical ages
Shallowly rooted
All same species together
We respect you
(the group repeats) We respect you.
Heated by sun,
We rarely view from above.
Cooled by sand
We don’t usually see under.
We learn from you
(the group repeats) We learn from you.
‘Timor mortis conturbat me’?
No, fear of death does not trouble me,
Because
‘Between every two pine trees there is a door leading to a new way of life’.
Quotes
‘Timor mortis conturbat me’ from late Medieval Scottish Poetry. A phrase from the Catholic Office of the Dead, it was used notably by William Dunbar in his ‘Lament for the Makars’. See also ‘Timor mortis conturbat me’ by Diana Hendry
‘Between every two pine trees there is a door leading to a new way of life’ John Muir
Publicity
A contemplative walk round the John Muir Country Park trees following the effects of storm Arwen. Including live fiddling from Lewis, a community song from Jane Lewis, new poems from Rita Bradd and Tamsin Grainger, and soil sample collection by the Keeper of the Soils, Natalie Taylor.
Link: Scots Pine: the sight, the sound and the smell by Ben Dolphin on walkhighlands
Walking without a donkey 