Our recent staycation led us to the ancient heart of Wyrd Wessex, a landscape steeped in myth and history. Our destination: Avebury, a place that feels less like a historical site and more like a living, breathing chapter from a fantasy novel. As we walked among the monumental stones, we were drawn to a copse of majestic beech trees, their gnarled trunks and sprawling canopies giving the impression of an assembly of ancient, watchful beings.
In this moment, it was impossible not to think of J.R.R. Tolkien. His great love for trees, so famously articulated in his writing, felt palpable here. The rustle of the leaves and the creak of the ancient bark seemed to be the very breath of these silent giants. It’s no wonder that these majestic trees are widely rumored to have inspired the Ents, the tree-herds of Fangorn Forest. Standing beneath their shade, you can easily imagine them waking, stretching their limbs, and speaking in a slow, deep tongue.
But our reverie was broken by a sobering conversation with a dedicated volunteer. He shared a disheartening reality: a significant portion of time is spent meticulously removing ribbons, trinkets, and other offerings left by well-meaning visitors. The well-intentioned desire to connect with the site, to leave a mark or make a wish, was ironically leading to the very slow harm of these beautiful trees. The synthetic materials of the ribbons don't break down, and the constant additions can restrict growth and damage the delicate bark.
This message hit home even harder when we stumbled upon a newly carved name etched into a tree’s surface. Then, just a few feet away, a stark and powerful piece of irony: a ribbon tied to a branch, with the words 'Leave No Trace' written upon it. The message clearly lost on the person who left it.
These ancient sites—places of immense natural and historical significance—are not simply backdrops for our photos or canvases for our expressions. They are fragile ecosystems, cared for by dedicated people and preserved for future generations. Our role should be one of guardianship, not ownership. We must become stewards, not just visitors.
So, how can we honor these places without harming them? How can we connect with the spirit of the trees without leaving a physical mark?
My thought goes to a different kind of offering. Instead of a ribbon or a carving, consider a simple, respectful act: giving the trees a drink of water. As you stand before one of these ancient giants, take a moment to pour a little water at its roots. As you do, you can make your wish, say your prayer, or simply offer a moment of gratitude. This is an act of reciprocity—a small gesture of care that respects both the tree and the people who work tirelessly to protect this special site.
It's a way to leave a blessing, not a trace. It’s about being better guardians of these places, ensuring that the magic we feel today can be experienced by countless others who will walk among the stones and the Ents of Avebury tomorrow. Let’s connect with nature in a way that truly honors its spirit.