There's a big old tree dead center of the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Don't know what kind, exactly. But perhaps some breed of willow. Anyway, it has a canopy of droopy leaves which hides the stout trunk from you. If you venture inside, you'll see this sign.
Obviously, this sign is not obeyed. In fact, climbing the old tree seems to be a long-standing garden tradition.
Another tradition is carving your name in the truck and branches.
Some seem to have had plenty of time to chisel their name in the wood. I guess that canopy provides ample camouflage from garden authorities.
A friend observed that she didn't think the tree enjoyed being carved up. I doubt it. That tree will be there long after the people who etched their names in it have gone.