I love the trees in wintertime after they have shed all of their leaves in the wild burlesque of Autumn and show us their beautiful bones. They remind me to stop doing, to rest and to be; to wait and replenish myself before I start to grow again. Where I live in the country, I am surrounded by trees – oak, chestnut, Scot’s pine and apple to name a few.
There is a special Grandfather oak tree in one of the fields. Sometimes I stop and have a conversation with him and tell him of my latest happenings and concerns. If I take the time to stop and listen I always get some good advice or reassurance.
I love the long dark nights of winter. I walk a half mile from my bus stop to my hibernaculum up an unlit single-track road. Friendly, sheltering trees guard my route. Some nights it is too dark to even see them, but I can feel their protective presence. On other nights I can see the starlight and moonlight between their branches. There are often owls and night birds calling to one another up amongst the branches.
London Trees, South Bank
Birch Trees at Tate Modern, London