Plane Trees are Galleons

The gnarled plane trees are galleons, the tall ships of the park. These are London Field's beauties. An Armada of Planes, laid out in rows, defining the haphazard shape of the Fields. London Fields always seems larger than it really is, because you never quite know where you are, the trapezoidal shape is hard to hold in your mind, and you always get unexpected sight-lines, with usually one going off into some unknown zone. The fact that no main roads really border the park helps with its useful dislocation, it means it is quiet, always, and impervious to total comprehension. No-one quite knows exactly where London Fields is. Try to say London Fields with the emphasis on the first word. Funny uhn? Here is a Plane Tree, a plain symbol of London, settling in to its summer foliage.

Rogue Sycamore

Down in the south quadrant, where the path bifurcates: the one which has the cycle lane alongside it goes north east, towards Pub in the Park, Hackney Central, or London Fields Station, and the other goes towards the Open Air Swimming Pool, or the Tennis Courts, or the residential area that is called London Fields. In the V of the bifurcation is an attractive rogue sycamore. Roguish as it has asserted itself in between the Plane Galleons, which are the Queens of the park, the Text of the trees. The sycamores are the back-beat, the sub-text. Nobody planted the sycamores in London fields, they are all self-propagating. And young and slender, giving off a noli-me-tangere vibe of a beautiful tall child

Cherry Trees by the Conveniences

Cherry Sentries of the inconveniently closed still conveniences, London Fields, East Side. They are recommissioning them, but until then, keep on using the services of the Lime Soothsayer, (See below). These three graces guard the west side of the humble buildings. But would it be good if the loos were turned into the London Field's cyclists' cafe, offering espressi and quoissants instead. Now there are a couple of kiosks in and near the Swimming Pool (which some people call the Lido).
Shy, dignified graces of Cherry, shiny barked, semi-hidden.

May may tree

Since it is almost not May anymore, the next dryad tree spirit has to feature the May in full blossom. This solitary flowering specimen grows on the south edge of the lateral east/west path and bike path, just to the north of the recently resurfaced football field. A brash, blushing, sturdy thing it splurges unlikely colour in a thick froth. Now June is coming at the end of this week and the major expostulation of bloom is over, so here it is for the last entry in May: the May tree

Scotch Corner

By an entrance to the park from the light-industrial, railway arch culture area east of London Fields, are a trio of fine Scots Pines, lending a forest-like, mountain-scenery air to the park. Long my they live, releasing their sweet clean scent over the zone. When I was pregnant I loved the smell of any solvents: gasoline and pine floor cleaner the best. That has faded now, but still the smell of pine is exciting, wild.

The Lime at the Corner

The Lime at the inner corner, on South Field - the field which has become the chill-space where people sunbathe and canoodle the most. I think it is has become the top picnic spot as it is not on the way to anywhere and the park goes right up the edge here. It is near the sweet modernist house, and the derelict park-keeper's house that EVERYONE including Staff, Andrew Stafford has their greedy eyes upon. This grand lime is a soothsayer. It announces the coming of the breeze with its paper thin high leaves before the others are stirring. The sound is a glorious shimmering ripple. Provides a lot of dapple for picnic with baby. Dryad is masculine somehow, and rather tolerant as quite a few people take a cheeky piss at the base of its black trunk.