It sits on a hill high above the Menai Straits on the mainland side between
I wonder what they make of the funny tree. This tree that never sheds its leaves or bows to the wind, this tree that is made of metal, plastic, and cement with not a single drop of sap running through its tree veins – no chlorophyll here.
Each time we pass we cry ‘Funny Tree!’ Another ritual from the past for a small girl’s amusement – and for luck of course. All ritual is for luck.
I know of other alien trees, robotic and sterile, like an invasion of space dryads from another planet. One on the A64 past York and another only a few miles down the Chester Road. Look out for them; they may be coming to take over the Earth.
I wonder, can the real trees hear the tinny voices flowing through those weird spiny leaves as the funny tree sends our voices out into space back to its home planet?