Fay Young

curiosity about the ways of the world

We’re here for the trees

A sudden fall. Opening the door, I find the ground is littered with leaves: birch, oak, lime, maple, hazel, blackthorn, dogwood… all making a lovely mess on the newly laid paths, helped by foraging black birds, blue tits, and red squirrels.

I’m posting an extract from the Scotland Grows article kindly commissioned and published as a Reader’s Garden feature for December. Trees Mean Home is their heading and it takes on special meaning this treacherously stormy winter. Trees are the reason we bought our ten acre plot 30 years ago. In a rapidly changing climate we value their shelter more than ever.

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Look this way: the glass is half full

A proper winter morning for a change. I’m birdwatching by the window with a cooling coffee. There’s a cluster of blue tits on the birch tree feeder, chaffinches catching crumbs on the ground. One robin, two blackbirds, three red squirrels frisky in the snow. Sights for sore eyes and sad hearts this grim December when there’s precious little seasonal comfort and joy.  But look, look! There’s a nuthatch again. Is it the one that likes to pose?

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