Photo by Andrea Paz on Pexels.com Once there was a woman who could never get green things to grow, no matter how hard she tried. Each spring, she would sow seeds she had gathered in the autumn. Her pockets and bags bulged with little zip-lock plastic bags; the kinds that had once contained screws, sequins, …
Dear fellow tree lovers, I'm sorry I've not written in so long; I hope you will understand. It's not that I've grown tired of arboreal adventures; it's just that a certain new little person in my life is making it tricky to find the time to write them down... She's napping now, in the …
I love the way that London’s green and wild corners are revealing themselves to me little by little. One day, as I was jogging around Finsbury Park, I noticed a steady stream of walkers and cyclists seeping in and out of a narrow passageway above a railway bridge. Curious, I crossed over the bridge …
So I spent Valentine’s Day in a graveyard cutting down trees... First I attacked a patch of ash and sycamore saplings with loppers. I looked on as a holm oak was toppled and then I helped cut up the branches and stash them out of sight behind a large gravestone. Later, I sawed down a …
Last Saturday, I dressed in layers, rode the 144 bus to Muswell Hill in my adopted borough of Haringey and followed local woodsman Iain Loasby on a journey through the history of ancient Coldfall Wood. My arboreal adventure had begun… London may not be the first place you’d expect to find ancient woods or indeed …
I began this year the way I begin most years: with a winter tree walk. I was staying at my parents' house in Birmingham over the New Year, and during a brief dry spell (of rain, not alcohol), I took a stroll around the neighbourhood, assorted family members in tow. We walked a way I've …
Little Wild Tales 