The arborists arrived early one morning and I knew that the death knell had finally been sounded on a towering blue gum on a neighbouring property.
I watched through gritted teeth as tree climbers scaled the eucalypt’s massive trunk and boughs, cutting branches and slowly lowering them to the ground.
The tree – which I estimated to be at least 100 years old – was making way for a housing development, along with a stand of white peppermint gums.
The blue gum was a vital component of the leafy backdrop to my property and as I watched it being felled I wished I had paid it more attention during the 20 years I had lived in my home.
When it comes to trees, why is it that we only miss them when they have gone? And why are blue gums in particular the ones to attract our attention when they are felled – a notable one situated outside the Anglesea Barracks on Davey St that was felled for safety reasons a few years back.
The tree bordering my garden was clearly not on the Hobart Significant Tree Register, and to ease my pain at its loss I went in search of some of those that were.
Looking through the hundreds of trees on the register, my eyes were drawn not to blue gums but a group of white gums located on the Queens Domain.
I’m familiar with these trees, which attract musk lorikeets and green rosellas, but like the blue gum lost to my sightline at home, I’ve taken them for granted and never considered what makes them so special.
According to the tree register criteria, what makes a tree significant is not just outstanding aesthetic value, exceptional height and size, age and rarity. Cultural value is also taken into account such as relationship to historic events or people; and value within a landscape.
Some of the oldest trees in Hobart grow on The Domain. The group of 24 white, or manna, gums are a remnant of the grassy woodlands where once the muwinina people collected the sweet, crumbly, manna or gum (hence the term “gum tree”) that the tree exudes after being attacked by insects.
The white gums, though, couldn’t compare to the majesty of the blue gum I had lost, especially as over the years it had attracted rare and beautiful swift parrots when it was in flower. The tree was one of a pair at the entrance to a driveway and I took solace in the fact that one was left in place, to enhance the new development.
And the surviving gum sprang a surprise during the Dark Mofo festival when it was spotlighted in red, presenting a ghostly apparition of twisted limbs.
It’s now become a blue gum casting a new light, staking a claim to be listed in the significant tree register.