Strange markings on a tree in the Church garden.

The Feast Day of St. Vincent Ferrer.
The rain and drizzle have been a key feature of today. I hesitate to say miserable, because we can decide to be content if we have the mind to overcome the damp, dismal dreariness.
It is 8c.
I visited the swans and the pair were in their same place, the male being vigilant and kind. A narrowboat called Tinkerbelle was moored up beside the canal side cafe which was open for serving meals and tea and coffee.
I am specially concerned about the church garden when they come to demolish the Catholic Church building. Some barriers have appeared on the front lawn outside the front of the church. Ominous.
There is a wrap around garden in not very deep soil, or poor quality low earth. There are many delightful Spring flowering plants. It adds to my distress thinking of how lacking in beauty and life the area will descend into. I grieve for the silent unstoppable loss of this once well loved and well attended sacred church. It is a sad sign of these times.
The primroses are out. Grape hyacinths. Lords and Ladies.
The green leaves of the bluebells have thrived in recent months.
This tree with wound like markings tells silently of the tragedy unfolding.
If the building had a voice would it feel wounded or even cry out for mercy? Would the spirits of past attenders or congregations mourn at what is to sadly occur here?
It will never be the same this time next year. So much will have been destroyed and desecrated. I can barely think of it. The empty space after the rubble is cleared will be a horrid site.
My miracle request was not answered to save the church, but never mind, good always wins eventually.
Thank you for dropping by and for any good comments.