The Christmas storms challenged the constructions but they sustained the battering well. It was like being at sea, according to Jeff, whose "home" stands 100 feet above the road. As in violent swaying, danger, sea-sickness? "Not at all. It was beautiful. We put our trust in the environment, in the relationship we've built up with the woodland and trust that we'll be safe in the branches. We're here to defend the trees and I think that trust is reciprocated."
He speaks the language of mystics and there is a fair bit of it about. Many of them believe that each tree and river has its spirit. Damhnait refers to her tree as Grainne: "Grainne, the oak tree which I am blessed to have befriended, has become a part of my soul." This relationship is as natural as breathing. In fact, our breathing depends on this relationship, they insist, clearly bewildered that many of us have failed to grasp the essential message.
Humans and trees are interdependent; the yin and the yang. They give us our oxygen; they absorb our carbon dioxide. What kind of madness, ask the Vigil Keepers, then impels us to chop them down for the short-term gain of ever wider, ever uglier roads, to facilitate ever more cars and juggernauts travelling at ever-increasing speeds, to further pollute the earth with their poisonous gases?
For now, it's a four-lane carriageway that is proposed for the Glen of the Downs. With the amount of development in the region, many believe there will soon be a clamour for six. Yes, there have been terrible accidents in the area - but not, say locals, on the road that runs through the Glen. And anyway, why can't drivers be forced to slow down? Why should nature be stripped for the sake of getting to the traffic jam in Cabinteely 30 seconds sooner? If a national nature reserve and an area of outstanding scenic beauty in a hugely popular tourist area is vulnerable to this suicidal impulse, is anywhere safe?
"I can never walk along this road without singing," says one young man. "I can't help it. I don't think I'll be getting that feeling walking alongside a concrete retaining wall."
It is still Tuesday evening. The tension is palpable in the bender. It is obvious why. They know the chainsaws could move in at any moment. (In fact, a Welshman, Michael Melbourne, claims the next day that he had heard of the council's intent and forewarned the protesters on Tuesday.)
They have a plan - dependent, it seems, on the presence of a good number of protesters; they have their treehouses from which they will have to be dragged, and their concrete lock-ins (from which an eviction team can only move them by breaking their arms). But though they have lawyers on side, they still haven't constructed a good, airtight legal case.
Wednesday, January 14th.
They wake on a beautiful, sunny morning to the whine of chainsaws and a media invasion. Michael Melbourne, the Welshman, is there with wood, chains and a large oil drum full of thick, filthy grease (to make the trees unclimbable for interlopers).
Rosa Murray from Greystones turns up with some home-baking, milk, orange juice and biscuits. Jim Fitzpatrick, local resident and tree surgeon, is there, having raised the alarm that trees are being felled to the south near Delgany. But the plan to block the road hasn't materialised due to small numbers. Felling of spindly ash trees go ahead amid some bizarre scenes. One local farmer insists on standing in the path of falling trees despite the advice of a genial council supervisor to move out of the way. The farmer says he is going to sue anyway for personal injury.
Jim Fitzpatrick races up mountain paths looking for evidence that rights of way are being extinguished and might form the basis for an injunction, explains his position on the run. Jeff begins the arduous climb back into his tree house, chatting away to journalists below who indulge his dog, Horse, by throwing an old tennis ball for him to fetch.
Michael Hammond confronts the genial supervisor and other workers verbally and with his digital camcorder - "You did not re-do the impact study. You don't give a tit about what you're doing" - with the aim of "getting as many faces as possible and then putting them onto the Internet - where they will stay for their children and grandchildren to see who took the trees out of Ireland. Not exactly the stuff of St Patrick, is it?" Joseph Glynn, a marketing research analyst from Bray, says he is appalled by the County Council's "despicable exploiting of people's concern for safety". A month ago, he says, he phoned the council and was told there were "no accident reports from the Glen - with the exception of one person pulling out of the car park".
Meanwhile, passing cars - slowed to a respectable pace by gardai and curiosity - honk horns in solidarity while familiar faces appear on the roadside.
John Gormley, Green TD; Joe Higgins, the Socialist Party TD; Councillor Sean English from Kildare; Barry Ahern, local Green Party member and husband of Nuala Ahern, MEP, all turn up to offer support, the Greens somewhat abashed by media questioning about the role played by local Green member, Alex Perkins, who at one stage said he was quite happy that this project should go ahead.
By early afternoon, the show is over. As numbers increase around the threatened trees, felling is halted for safety reasons and both sides head for the High Court seeking injunctions. In the ensuing silence, a Vigil Keeper can be heard "screaming like a hurt dog", in the words of one observer.
Adrienne Murphy calmly hugs and consoles shaken-looking warriors and barely turns a hair when further bloodcurdling shouts echo among the bendys. "That's just someone letting off steam. The tension and the waiting have been terrible", she says. Driving out of the car park later, there is rich irony in the words of the official sign still standing amid the felled ash trees: "Wildlife Act 1976. National Nature Reserve. Please do not disturb the animals or plants in this area. Wildlife Service."