An organic sculpture exhibition sprawls on the lawn near the Wellington Pine of the Natural History Museum in Oxford.  Out on the green are gigantic tree roots that have been unturfed naturally by storms as far a field as Africa.  In all weathers the wood sparkles white with gnarly bits of brown and twists and turns like rope.  These trees would make a perfect back drop for a prison based play and it is fun to interact with them.  Nature feels so alive and essential even when it is stone cold dead.  Like the serene truthful expression of a soul that has passed over.  The trees are an engaging empty shell.