We have had high winds this week and the pavement beneath my tree is strewn with snapped twigs. I thought perhaps, after our early spring and long, sunny summer, that autumn might be coming early but the leaves on this silver birch are still resolutely green. It may be there is just the faintest tinge of gold.
I’ve been away from Sheffield a fair bit this month and have realised how much this tree speaks to me of home. It stands right outside our house; its familiar, graceful shape is the first thing I notice when I turn the corner into our street.
The tree affects the interior of our home too. On breezy mornings when the sun is out, the branches cast huge, swaying shadows on the inside of our bedroom curtains. I can sit in bed and watch them as I sip my tea and it feels a little bit like being rocked.
This month we mark twelve years in our Sheffield house. The tree, I have realised, is a huge part of what makes that house our home.
Tree following is a wonderful project run by Lucy at Loose and Leafy. Her post this month is wrenching: all along her street, trees are being felled.
If they try that here, I might have to chain myself to the trunk.