I used to come up here in the late 80’s and burden this poor old Oak with teenage tales of unrequited love, exam stresses and friendship dilemmas. I rather hope I also shared some positive stories but there was a lot of that delicious melancholy. In my defense, this tree, along with Depeche Mode must have saved a lot of people from my indulgent musings!
My shadow during these years was a cocker spaniel called Chloe, she was always happy to ferret around the tree roots and chew a stick. I still visit sometimes as my parents still live close by. These days, it is my springer spaniel Spigget* who accompanies me, and occasionally my own teenagers, who have their own tales I’m sure.
This lovely oak served me very well when I needed it, but I would not claim it as ‘my tree’ I like to think it has heard the hopes, dreams and stories of many people before and after me. A solid, quiet presence, looking out over the Cotswold hills with a perfectly fashioned ‘foot’ for anyone to sit on and contemplate the world.
*Our son used to call biscuits ‘Spiggets’ when he was a toddler.