The past reveals itself in the old, weathered stubs of massive white mulberry (Morus alba) trees, their gnarled forms standing like sentinels guarding history. Scarred bark and stubbed branches speak of seasons endured and storms survived, each knot and hollow a quietly written ledger of time. Once leafy giants that shaded fields and courtyards, these remnants now mark the landscape with a solemn dignity, anchoring memories of labor, gatherings, and everyday lives that have passed. In their patient silence they connect present eyes to vanished routines and stories, offering a living, tactile link to the layered human and natural history of the place.