A row of pollarded trees on a damp day in autumn, guarding the entrance to some Florentine estate.
They reminded me of the original version of Snow White, in which the trees of the forest clutch like the talons of the wicked queen.
Ineffectively, although poor Snow White couldn't know it at the time.
These trees look rather ineffective too, the sad truncated things. As a method of keeping vegetation in check, pollarding is effective. But until the leaves bud in spring, they take on a strange anthropomorphic countenance unveiled by the usual screen of small twigs and branches.
Like the suicide trees in Dante, perhaps. That might be appropriate for the entranceway to a certain sort of Florentine villa.
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