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| Jonas Umbach Fallen Tree with Herdsmen and Goats before 1693 etching Harvard Art Museums |
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| Richard Cooper Woman seated on Fallen Tree Trunk ca. 1790-1810 drawing Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
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| attributed to William Henry Hunt A Fallen Oak ca. 1815 drawing, with added watercolor Yale Center for British Art |
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| Antoine-Xavier-Gabriel de Gazeau, comte de La Bouëre Uprooted Tree at Olevano Romano 1833 oil on paper Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York |
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| Pierre-Louis Dubourcq Fallen Tree overgrown with Weeds 1836 etching Philadelphia Museum of Art |
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| Thomas Cole Sketch of Two Dead Trees before 1848 drawing Yale University Art Gallery |
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| Martín Rico Fallen Tree ca. 1852-58 watercolor on paper Museo del Prado, Madrid |
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| Carlos de Haes Study of Felled Tree ca. 1872 oil on canvas Museo del Prado, Madrid |
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| Francis Hopkinson Smith Forest Scene 1874 watercolor on paper Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia |
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| Léon Barotte Tree ca. 1890 color monotype Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco (Achenbach Foundation) |
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| Georges Lacombe Felled Tree, Normandy 1898 drawing (charcoal and crayon) National Gallery of Art, Washington DC |
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| Laurie Wilson Untitled ca. 1960-80 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne |
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| Aaron Siskind The Tree 1973 gelatin silver print Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
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| David Shrigley Fallen Tree 1996 C-print Tate Gallery |
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| Robert Shlaer Blackbirds in Fallen Tree Cheyenne Bottoms Wildlife Refuge, Kansas 1997 daguerrotype Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, Kansas City, Missouri |
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| Jürgen Bey Tree-Trunk Bench 1999 assemblage with log and wooden chair-backs Centraal Museum, Utrecht |
from The House That Jack Built
the first trees were felled
and sailed in, wrecked, then slept
an age in the northern sun, blackening
to iron were found by horsemen
leading their horses and raised as
cloud's axles, rafters of night, a god's gates
were passed through, seen
from miles off, rolled the sun
and moon along their lintels, rooted,
put out leaves for a second time
creaked, tasted the rain, held
the wind to their hearts while
the horsemen streamed like
their horses' manes
into the dark, their fires
black smudge in the subsoil, their bridles
of gold underground
lived long, grew great
were a second time
felled, dressed were sharpened to stakes
and raised as a fort
by farmers who'd followed their ploughs
to the treeline for fuel
to bake the pots
their ashes were buried in . . .
– Jacob Polley (2016)