Look ahead on Albert Street and you’ll spot a gnarly old tree, with a thick, hollowed trunk and bright green leaves, planted right in the middle of the pavement, just outside a shop window-trust me, you can’t miss it!
Now, let me bring you face-to-bark with the legend of The Big Tree! Take a moment to really look at it-notice that old, weathered trunk, still clinging to life with a few green branches, and the sturdy black metal pole tucked right inside it like a suit of armor. This isn’t just any tree. This proud sycamore is more than 200 years old and has been standing guard on Kirkwall’s main street longer than the oldest person living on Orkney today. In the 1800s, though, things almost went terribly wrong for this leafy giant.
Picture yourself here in Kirkwall in the 1870s. The street is quieter, the houses hum with the bustle of shopkeepers, and right where you’re standing now used to be a private garden belonging to Mr. Thomas Sclater, the local chemist. He had three grand trees, but he wanted to chop them all down to make way for new shops. The townsfolk weren’t having it! Imagine the uproar-fishmongers, postmen, and children all shaking their fists, demanding that at least one tree must stay. Eventually, an unusual deal was struck. Sclater wrote a prim letter to the Town Council: for five pounds-quite the sum back then-they could buy the tree and spare it from the saw, but on one condition: they had to keep its branches trimmed so it wouldn’t poke his house. The tree was saved, and the town cheered!
But life wasn’t always easy for our tree. As Kirkwall grew and cars started grumbling up and down the street, the sycamore found itself right in the hustle and bustle. By the mid-20th century, it was looking a bit worse for wear and the council said, “Five years, that’s all it’s got.” Cue a second uproar! Once again, the people of Kirkwall rose to defend their tree, and once again, it survived-clearly not a tree that gives up easily.
In recent times, the tree got a little help to keep going. The council hollowed out its old, dead core and gave it a metal pole, almost like fitting a knight with a shiny shield. And look at it now-twisted, hollow, but still full of life, a real survivor in the heart of the town. People gather here, stories are shared, maybe even the odd secret is whispered under its leaves. Awarded Scotland’s Tree of the Year in 2017, this sycamore stands not just as a tree, but as the symbol of a town that refuses to give up on the quirky, wonderful things that make it special. And now you, my friend, are part of its story too!
