All trees are lovely, with a special place in your heart for any you have raised yourself, from seed. Constantly you are heartened at the short period between putting down the seed (say an acorn), and the seemingly very few years before it stands as a tall, flourishing young oak, even producing its own acorns. Then, of course, the very special thrill is to produce from the acorns of that tree, more young oaks - grandchildren, so to speak, of your original planting. Sometimes as short a period as 40 years. Hmm.
One tree about which certain reservations are held was recently the subject of an article in an English newspaper. It is Arucaria arucana and the newspaper, The Daily Telegraph, in an article by Nigel Summerley, rightly calls it "this love-it-or-loathe-it tree". Popularly known as the monkey-puzzle tree, from the immediate reaction of a nameless Victorian when it came to Britain: "It would puzzle a monkey to climb that." A squirrel, too, might be in two minds about it, you would think.
You've known the tree, of course, from first sighting. Young people love the monkey bit. But not everyone will lose much sleep over the fact that it is apparently one of the world's most threatened species. Even though it's anything but your favourite, you could feel for a British-based conservation project which is working to ensure that it does not go the way of the dinosaurs.
First brought to Britain from their home in South America by a botanist in 1790, it was some time before they were traded commercially. Anyone who planted one in his or her front garden in the suburbs had a problem on their hands. For the tree was regarded as of cultural status, but when it grew to their enormous potential there was a problem. They can reach 120 feet.
Some people say they look more like something manufactured than a living growing thing. They are certainly not among the loveliest of trees. But an avenue of them in, say a big estate or park, is another thing. This article says there is a magnificent 150-year-old avenue of 36 trees at Powerscourt Estate. They have deteriorated recently, according to this article, and the head gardener, Michael Caplice, plans to interplant some younger specimens. Formidable in later years when the lower branches have gone. Formidable rather than heart-warming, many will think.