Mourning the landscape

Recent events haunt my dreams. At least we admired the way that the sunbeams fell on those particular poppies every single morning. I don't know the proper name for that very woody giant sprawling juniper, but everybody says that it was planted back in the 'Fifties. It was like a giant bonsai, with much twisting and striation of the trunks and bark. The middle section fell victim to a hit-and-run incident in the middle of the night one year. The uphill section was severely grazed on this occasion and has lost a good half of itself; the most downhill section was entirely destroyed, mostly snapped into pieces, but not entirely. Somebody wielding the most impressive pickaxe that I've ever seen grubbed out almost all the roots, which took quite some doing.