The tree and its leaves of fine gold have stood in his family’s garden for generations. In his lifetime, it has brought merchants, emissaries, marquis, dukes, and even a king to his door, to marvel at its splendour. But as each summer grew drier than the rest, the tree and its leaves of gold went unplucked. No charity for the poor. No aid for the cities. His vast fortunes were left on the boughs. And that is where they remained, until one day he rode home to golden ash on the wind.
Paddy Dobson
16th July 2021