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Country diary: The wind writes its own history in broken branches | Paul Evans

The Marches, Shropshire: Gales like this have a violent beauty as they rip through trees, bending trunks and pulling at the roots

On solstice eve, a gale came thrashing trees, strewing sticks. Around each tree in the park, particularly the limes and ash, was a leeward shadow of branches and twigs, mostly dead brash winnowed from the living boughs, cast down to rot into the earth.

Before decaying and recycling nutrients back to the tree roots through fungi, the fallen sticks had a more esoteric presence. They fell individually but made patterns or shapes together – shapes like the Chinese characters or the symbolism of Nordic runes used in spells, or Mimih spirit sticks in the ceremonies of the Kunwinjku people of Australia, or the stick divination of the Dagara people of Burkina Faso.

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