About half of you are going to read this and think I’m utterly mad. I’m prepared for that.
I just wanted to say that I adore trees.
I think they’re the most magical, awe-inspiring everyday visions no matter what the season. And we all take them rather for granted.


I’m really lucky as we live on the doorstep of some fabulous National Trust properties with the most wonderful avenues of trees with their comfortingly sturdy trunks, and beautiful arching limbs.
And just a stone’s throw from our house there are Horse Chestnut trees, ancient beeches and grand old oaks; old, gnarled and twisted but really quite beautiful.

My children think it’s hilarious: ‘Oh no, mum’s going on about trees again! Quick let her take a photo and then she’ll shut up’.
But I’m pretty sure they’re hooked too.

One of my favourite trees is in our back garden. It’s a 8-year-old silver birch and it was a wedding present from my mum.

And one of my children’s favourite trees is a climbing tree. It’s not the prettiest of trees but it offers up large arching branches for their little hands to grab on to and convenient little footholds to boost them higher into its canopy.

Dan-climblingThe next time you are outside, look to the skies. Look to the branches and the newly budding leaves. Look to the height and the age and the misshapen roots.
And maybe you’ll think to yourself ‘actually, Tara’s not that daft after all’.


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