A Yew Tree on University Life
By Lola
November 2024
A Yew Tree on University Life: “If they stopped cutting my lower branches I would simply walk away.” A Fictional Interview of a Yew tree in University Hall, St Andrews.
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Britain’s Yew trees are one of the oldest living organisms in Europe. One of three native conifers, they astonish with their ability to regenerate, their value to biodiversity despite the tree’s high toxicity, and their long ties to human history and imagination. A young female tree, located in the garden of University Hall, St Andrews, kindly agreed to a fictional interview.
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Homo sapien: Good morning! Which name do you go by, European yew, English yew, or Common yew?
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Taxus baccata: Good morning, Homo sapiens. Just use my Latin name, Taxus baccata. I like to stay out of politics. But please do not ever call me English yew, I am rooted in Scotland after all.
Homo sapien: Understood. Thank you Taxus baccata for agreeing to be photographed today. I apologise for not capturing the purple hue in your bark. For anyone who cannot be here with us on this crisp November afternoon, what are your finest aesthetic qualities?
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Taxus baccata: What makes me stand out from my male companions over there are my bright-red arils surrounding my seeds. They are bending their branches with jealousy. You came at the right time; the arils ripen from late September to November. My bark is thin and scaly, it shimmers in hues of purple in the sun. When one gets sunlight in Scotland to photosynthesize! I am proud of my glossy evergreen needles, the shiniest ones around. They have pointed tips, just like the stiletto nails some of those University students have nowadays. My fashion sense was always ahead of its time, what can I say?
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Homo sapien: That is all very impressive, but I am here for a module on biodiversity literacy. What is your value to biodiversity and habitat creation?
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Taxus baccata: My dense branch structure and evergreen needles create niches for overwintering invertebrates. Moths, barkflies, and spiders seek shelter in my foliage during the colder months. Bats hide in my sibling’s wood cavities. The nationally scarce spider Hyptiotes paradoxus’ preferred habitat are Yew trees in England and Wales that they decorate with triangle-shaped nets. Thrushes and other birds devour my arils every winter. Who can fault them? The arils taste delicious, reminding one of persimmon or lychee! Squirrels get peckish as well. Even though my foilage contains toxic taxine alkaloids, greedy caterpillars still fest on them! Outrageous! The most shocking theft is committed by badgers; they swallow entire fruits and defecate intact seeds, escaping my poison. I will not be too mad at them though as they unknowingly disperse my seeds, and many young yews have grown from their excrement.
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Homo sapien: Do University students ever get peckish and steal your arils?
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Taxus baccata: A rhetorical question, you alone have eaten at least two dozen arils since the start of our interview! But be warned, Homo sapiens: You must spit out my seeds, as they are even more poisonous than my leaves. Even Caesar recounts in his “Gallic Wars” a case of yew tree poisoning when the Eburones king Cativolcus took his life in 53 BC. And still, humans die every year because they get too greedy! How forgetful you short-lived creatures are.
Homo sapiens: Your species is well-known for its longevity. I heard that you generously shared this knowledge with medical chemists to fight cancer. Can you share this story?
Taxus baccata: 2024 years after the Eburones king’s death, the medicinal chemist Dr Mansukh C. Wani isolated the compound paclitaxe from the bark of one of my close cousins, the Pacific Yew. As soon as they realised that taxol inhibited the growth of cancer cells by stopping cell division, they got very excited and started stripping Yew trees of their park to advance clinical trials. Even humans understand that our bark only contains 0.01% w/w taxol. Somehow, that realisation did not stop them from killing around 6000 trees to obtain a mere ∼1.9kg of taxol! That’s what I call unsustainable. It took 23 years until Nicolaou and Holton independently saved my cousins by developing a total synthesis of taxol. They were so crossed about the timing, submitting only one month apart! Humans are funny sometimes. Nowadays, humans collect Taxus baccata‘s needles but at least scientists leave our North American cousins alone. What can I say, one sacrifices a lot for one's family. Nowadays, the drugs paclitaxel and docetaxel feature on the World Health Organization’s Model List of Essential Medicines. On reflection, I am quite proud of the Yew tree’s contribution to the fight against cancer.
Homo sapiens: That’s so interesting! Yew trees are known for their ability to regenerate. How old are you and how do you keep young?
Taxus baccata: Do modern humans have no manners anymore? Never ask a woman (or a female yew tree) her age! I wish I could just grow a male branch, like my sister at Defynnog, maybe then you silly creatures would stop asking. And why is “keeping young” the goal anyway? I’m looking forward to hollowing over the centuries, hosting bats and birds in my stem, bursting into life when humans believed I was only a dead piece of wood. And they call it a miracle. When yew trees hollow, adventitious roots can fill the stem and connect the crown to the soil. As we age, the old stem decays and the adventitious roots start providing structural support. Look at all these scientists debating the true age of the Fortingall yew in Perthshire! The Fortingall yew is hollow, making tree ring counting unreliable. Yew trees regenerate outside and inside. The researchers can’t even figure out which part of the tree is the oldest, a real challenge for carbon isotope dating. On top of that, Yew tree wood is notoriously dense. Professor Rob Wilson from St Andrews University broke three tree corers trying to get samples from my siblings in the borders. He since has not dared to date the St Andrews’ Yew trees. My age remains a secret, thank you very much.
Homo sapien: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you by asking about your age. But it’s not that you could walk away from our interview...
Taxus baccata: Ha! Be warned, human. Yew trees are sometimes known as “walking trees” because low-hanging branches that touch the soil can take root and develop into new trees. The University students’ annoying habits and late-night parties make me want to leave. If they stopped cutting my lower branches I would simply walk away. Alas, a yew tree can’t walk away overnight.
Homo sapiens: Since you’re stuck with me, one final question: What can we humans do to protect yew trees in the UK and enhance biodiversity? Question about what to do to help yews and biodiversity
Taxus baccata: I’m glad you finally asked, Homo sapiens. Three calls to action are most important to me: 1.Sign this petition for legal protection of Britain’s ancient Yews. 2.Raise awareness for Yew trees by impressing family and friends with all the fun facts you learned. Need another one? Britain is home to over 1,000 ancient yew trees that count 500 years or more. In comparison, France counts 77 specimens, and Germany and Spain four ancient Yews each. 3.Pay attention to the yew trees you pass every day. Look out for the bright red arils, glossy needles in a spiral arrangement around the branch, and brownish-purple, flaky bark. Remember to spit out the poisonous seed if you try one of the arils. Does it taste like persimmon, lychee, or honey? Listen if you hear a song thrush nearby; look out for rustling leaves, you might see a squirrel.
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Homo sapiens: Thank you for the interview.
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Taxus baccata: You’re welcome. And remember:
