trees | Pilgrim's Perch

The days of January can seem short in length but interminable in their dragging out day by day to the very end of the month. After the excitement of Christmas we feel, perhaps, like a small child – tired and emotional – and with the turning of the year it’s as though bleak reality sets in.

A tree stands silhouetted against a winter sky — *The dark days of January*

The brevity of winter daylight marks January as a dreary month; those neutral shades of grey, pale brown and yet more grey seem to cast an unremitting dullness over the landscape.

Dark twigs form wonderful patterns against the backdrop of a silvery sky — *Dark twigs cast intricate patterns against a January sky*

And yet this is a good time to enjoy trees in all their stripped-back glory. Denuded of their leaves you are able to see their true shape; to follow the branches from trunk to twig-tip; to trace the intricate patterns the interweaving twigs reveal. Touch and feel the bark of the tree; sometimes rugged and rough; sometimes smooth as a cheek. Wonder at the colour of bark as it gleams in the occasional ray of sun; never uniform but always a palette of shades of yellow, brown, grey, silver.

The English poet, Thomas Hardy, created an evocative picture in his poem ‘The Darkling Thrush’ when he wrote:

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky 
	Like strings of broken lyres,
	And all mankind that haunted nigh
	Had sought their household fires.

We picture the scramble of twiggery and stems caught up in wintry gusts; perhaps we shiver and head for home, for the warmth and comfort of the homely fire.

Or, it may be a delightfully sharp and clear frosty day. Branches strike elegant poses against the sky; poplar trees reach for the clouds with proud elegant sweeps.

A poplar tree displays its branches reaching upwards to the skies. — *Reach for the clouds…*

And if it has been raining we can marvels at raindrops clinging to the underside of delicate twigs, awaiting the inevitable ground-ward pull of gravity.

Drops of rain tremble on tree twigs, waiting to fall to the ground — *Tiny drops of rain tremble on twigs like small jewels*

Even better if there has been a fall of snow and trees capture handfuls of snow in their woody fingertips. Then is the time to tread softly; to hear the muffled stillness that comes in a snowy wood, broken only by the occasional rustle as a branch sheds its snowy burden.

Fluffy snow held captive in the hold of pine needles — *A net of pine needles captures a fall of snow*

‘The Darkling Thrush’ finishes with a note of hope, a sudden moment of joy in the middle of the gloomy landscape. An aged thrush breaks the silence with his outpouring of glorious song:

At once a voice arose among
	The bleak twigs overhead
	In a full-hearted evensong
	Of joy illimited...

Hiding amongst the branches a bird bursts suddenly into song — *A hidden bird bursts into song amidst the branches*

January may be long but it is not without moments of joy and revelation. Winter does not last indefinitely.

A ray of sun gleams out unexpectedly and brightens the darkness of a January day — *A welcome gleam of sun brightens a January day*

For many children on long car journeys the cry is often, ‘Are we nearly there yet?’ As a child my cry was always, ‘Will we be going through a tunnel of trees?’

Road passing through tunnel of trees — A tunnel of trees

I always found travelling a long stretch of road flanked by trees in full leaf enormously exciting – and if the canopy comprised interlinked leafy branches, creating a dark, slightly mysterious tunnel suggesting unfolding adventures then so much the better. This has continued into adult life and still I love to walk along a path that is overhung with a leafy roof, the cool green light filtering through and making ever-shifting patterns on the path as sunlight dances through the twigs.

There might be long straight tunnels with regular perfectly-formed tunnel walls of aged tree trunk, bark beautifully patterned, stretching to a pinpoint light at the end of the tunnel. Or it might be a curvy path – giving no idea of length or how far the darkness might last before coming out into the light. Tantalising in its uncertainty but with a continuing sense of mystery. The tunnels might be natural, or planted deliberately, festooned with flowers or foliage cascading over the path.

A gate leads you to a path through the trees — Gated pathway through trees

These tunnels might suggest ancient human routes, sunken paths formed over the years and worn away and downwards from the stepping of countless feet.

It might be a formal avenue, a word from the French avenir, meaning ‘to reach, or to arrive,’ or it may be a natural holloway – from the Anglo-Saxon words hola weg, meaning a ‘harrowed path’, or ‘sunken road’. These ancient tracks would probably have started as ancient drove roads for moving cattle to different pastures or to market. Some will have grown as pilgrim paths, followed by the faithful in their journeys to sacred shrines and places of worship.

Sunken path through trees — A sunken path will have a history of its own…

In his book The Wild Places Robert MacFarlane writes ‘These holloways are humbling, for they are landmarks that speak of habit rather than suddenness. Trodden by innumerable feet, cut by innumerable wheels, they are records of journeys to market, to worship, to sea.’ Each has its own story to tell; as we walk along them we continue that story as we create our own pilgrimage tale of experience.

Mysterious path winding steeply upwards — A mysterious winding path leading up through woodland

We need to enjoy tunnels of trees wherever we can find them. Some have lasted years and speak of history; others will be more transient as they are changed or adapted to whims of landscape and garden designers. But they can instil in us a sense of wonder, peace and enchantment. The plaintive cry, ‘are we nearly there yet?’ will become more of a spellbound whisper ‘let me linger a little longer.’

Boy running through trees — Enjoy the tunnels of trees and let the path carry you onwards…

Tag: trees

Revealing Joy in January

Tunnel of Trees