I like trees. They look like they have all the answers to all the questions in the world, they just have better things to do than talk to us about it. I like walking in places, looking at a tree and saying, “that’s a fine tree.”
This is a place for trees.
This one is actually the background for the site. Here it is in all its full frontal majesty. It’s somewhere along the Monmouthshire-Brecon Canal, around Crickhowell, South East Wales. I have a fond memory of riding my bike there last summer, sitting at the base of it and reading The Pale King, while a family had a picnic nearby. Sounds like I’m making it up, but I’m not. This is a fine tree.
I’d like to learn more about the names of different types of trees. If anyone reads this and is a dendrophile, give me a shout.
This tree looks like it was struck by lightning. Or that it was home to an old woman who told stories to the village children until she got locked up. I found it the day I met my ladyfriend, in Ashton Court, Bristol. We were searching for the chimerical “fattest tree” of which we had heard legends. We’re not sure if this is actually it, but it certainly is a fat tree.
This is a fine tree.
It’s in a field somewhere in the remote countryside of Llanddewirhydderch. It’s a landmark. It looks like it’s spanned generations, centuries. I like to think the dogs appreciate it too. I miss the Welsh countryside at times. It’s a safe place.
This tree looks like an angry sea monster. Like a giant squid. It’s outside my old place of work, King Henry VIII School, Abergavenny. It looks out of place for South Wales, like it belongs somewhere exotic.
This haunted beast resides in a valley in East Harptree, Somerset, near the ruinous site of Richmont Castle. Somwhere in that valley, a nefarious scientist named Norton Malreward, who’s bald, probably, and likes to laugh wickedly a lot, is hiding in his secret underground lair, plotting the earth’s destruction. Only Stanford Wildgoose can stop him!
#14 #15 #16
The top three from a spring Sunday morning walk in Woodchester Park, Nympsfield, near Stroud.
The Wispy Willow of North Street.
This beauty was spotted in the small village of Dundry.
This one belongs to Jess. Found somewhere in the Cheddar Gorge. A wonderful place. Its branch game is strong.
That first sunny day of the year when everyone goes out with crates and bbq under their arms to gather in clusters and live life to the fullest. It’s always a highlight of every year. 2021 was a good one. St. Andrew’s Park, Bristol. This clawed individual joined the party.
Henrietta Park, Bath, after a cycle along the canal.
Just outside Pen Y Fan Pond, Aberbeeg, South East Wales. From a fine day of dog walking. I’d like to return to see it in full summer swing.
King Square, Jamaica Street, Bristol City.
On a horse yard in Llangatock Lingoed, during a delightful birthday visit home to the family. I’m into the white light behind the leaves.
Stumbled upon during a long daydream and walk through LlanddewiRhydderch, Monmouthshire.
This one is from Jess, found in Fifield, in the Cotswolds. Good tree spotting, Jess.
Spotted at the bottom of the Beacons trail, near Glyntawe, deep in the heart of the Brecon Beacons.
#28, #29, #30, #31, #32, #33, #34
The highlights from a wonderful autumn day at Westonbirt Arboretum. About as good as it’s going to get for treespotting, I think I’ll retire now.
Some of these are just showing off.
There are some pretty sweet things about living in the UK this time of year, this Devon specimen being one of them, the blue sky being another.