René Magritte painted a pipe and added a caption stating that it was not a pipe.
It wasn’t a pipe, of course. It was a painting of a pipe.
So this is not a tree, it is a photograph of a tree. Or a bush.
But in another sense, it is a tree (or a bush) that has been wronged. It has been left to display itself in an arid wasteland.
Then again, perhaps it is a proud tree (or a bush) and I am wrong about it having been wronged.
I want to rescue it from the paving slabs and the gravel, from the wire fence and the pruning – and put it on the edge of the forest where it will be surrounded by friends. Of course, I cannot.