When I was a child, I would always pass this Silverbirch tree when travelling into the town center. When adorned in foliage it would not catch the eye, but around this time of year when bare I would always notice what at the time I presumed were many old bird’s nests entangled in its branches. I thought that for some unknown reason it was a really popular tree with the birds. I have since learned that these tangle of twigs are known as galls. Or, if you prefer-witches’ brooms.
It would remind me of the spray of shotgun pellets, or a sky peppered with the flak of anti-aircraft fire. Such was how my young mind worked. My camera phone shot doesn’t do it justice. What it needs is a good, young imagination.