The day was hot. Jack leaned back against the old camphor laurel, relishing the cool of its shade as he thirstily drained the last drops from his bottle. Slowly he stood up, grunting with the effort. Carefully he balanced the empty bottle in the crook of two branches, then stretched his aching legs before heading back into the heat of the day. If ever there was a time his team needed him, it was now…
Every tree has a story to tell and perhaps that’s how this one started. For as we worked on this fine slab, it revealed several treasures, each softened and tarnished with age and buried deep below years of growth. We uncovered broken glass, then deeper again rusted nails and an old metal pin. Evidence of human activity that the tree had covered over with the passing of time. Have you ever wondered what stories a tree could tell?
