Tree time

Throughout the year I have been reading "The Blackbird's Song" by Miles Richardson, our favourite nature connection expert. As he says, trees are our closest neighbours, present in our daily life and their presence is good for us. Even a view of three trees from a window can bring greater wellbeing, a benefit that I am enjoying as I write this. When I moved to my current flat I never considered the trees out the front, and I would never have guessed how attached to them I would become. Even now, sitting facing the window, I'm watching the wind whip the branches about, so much that leaves are flying all over the place, but the movement of the branches and leaves is creating a kaleidoscopic effect with the light; even though it's not really sunny, does it still count as komorebi? I've been doing what Miles suggested in the January chapter advised and getting to know and visiting a particular tree throughout the year. This month there was a reminder to check in with your favourite tree, focusing on the foliage as it prepares for winter.

I find it almost impossible to ignore trees at this time of year; I'm grateful to live somewhere with distinct seasons, and thrilled that I don't have to travel to witness autumn colour. The fact that people do, makes me determined to appreciate all the colours and autumnal beauty that is on hand here in Scotland. My conker collection is expanding, although not too much, as I don't want to deprive the wildlife of winter goodies. I'm always pleased to see kids gathering them though and I laughed a lot when I was pelted with half chewed nuts by a squirrel at the weekend. I think acorns have also been particularly good here this year although the exceedingly dry summer in other places has badly affected the amount of nuts on both oak and horse chestnut. Another tree that I am ashamed to say I've never previously really taken any notice of is the whitebeam. It has come to my attention this year due to the amount of red berries covering them.

A couple of weeks ago I was lucky enough to speak to a tree - or at least, listen to its inner life. As part of the Sonica Festival in Glasgow, the Hidden Gardens hosted Mechanimal delivering Deepwood, an immersive experience where a tree has plant biosensors attached to various parts, leaves, roots, bark,and then with headphones (headphones with antlers no less!) you are invited to listen to what is happening within and around the tree and beneath the soil. The sounds of the tree "breathing" are interspersed with music, orchestrated by the gathered data, as well as information and stories about trees; it was an opportunity to think very differently about the place of trees in the world, how they communicate with each other, the effect of the air quality surrounding them, the soil moisture and translate into sound the amount of activity happening beneath the surface, beyond what we can usually see. It was magical to stand close to the tree, listening to the sap flow and a deeply meditative experience. The team have delivered this project at a number of different locations, and it was interesting to hear how the results have differed between these sites, one with young fruit trees in a community orchard, another with native trees up in the Highlands, and the Hidden Gardens where they were working with just one beautiful ginkgo tree, pictured above. The only thing that could have made the encounter more profound was if the leaves had already turned golden. A friend in London has recently moved, and one of her favourite things about her new place is that the street tree right outside is a ginkgo, flooding the street with yellow in autumn. What a fantastic treat to discover when you've just moved in.

Like my friend and many other people, I love ginkgo biloba trees; the unusual fan-shaped leaves, which I have just learnt is the root of the name "biloba" as they have two lobes, the texture of the bark and the gorgeous golden colour the leaves turn, just before they fall, almost at once, creating a lake of yellow around the tree. They're the world's oldest tree species and identifiable throughout the world in fossil records. Some trees in China are over 3000 years old, but the species itself is over 270 million years old, predating dinosaurs. It is the only tree in its family Ginkgoaceae with no close living relatives. In Japan they are often seen in Shinto shrines as their longevity and resistance to fire, disease and pollution made them ideal for planting near wooden temples, with many even surviving the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Often known as Shinboku - sacred trees - they are believed to shelter divine spirits; some have been given protected names and are designated as natural monuments. I have read that felling a mature tree without divine permission was considered a spiritual crime, and that even today foresters in Japan will ask forgiveness before cutting a tree. This is one step up from the Druids who taught me to ask the tree's permission before touching it. I would like to see more of this deep nature connection in British society. To learn more about the ginkgo, I recommend this video from Kew Gardens, and if you get down to Cadzow Glen in Hamilton, you might be in time to witness the resident ginkgo tree there turn gold.

This seems like a good place to fit in a reminder about Climate Action Lanarkshire's Community Tree Scheme which is open for applications until next Tuesday 20th October. It's designed to enable Lanarkshire community groups to take practical climate action by providing support to plan, carry out and maintain successful tree planting projects. From nature networks - planting trees to link up other natural areas to increase biodiversity and create habitat corridors, to orchards that can provide food for your neighbourhood, to wee forests - small areas of densely planted, fast growing native species, the team will work with you to explore what type of project would work best in your community. There will be priority given to groups in Airdrie, Carfin, Coatbridge, Carluke, East Kilbride and Larkhall. Tree planting helps tackle climate change, restore nature and improve our health and wellbeing. It also brings people together to take climate action and create greener, fairer neighbourhoods. So if you have an idea for a project, complete the online form and they will be in touch.

In years past I might have started to feel mournful as the leaf count on the trees decreased, even whilst celebrating the fact that I get a better view from my window of dogs being walked, but I have read so much about how to embrace winter and think I have absorbed some of the attitudes and advice. I might even go so far as to say I have adopted a winter mindset. If you are feeling blue as winter approaches, I recommend signing up to Kari Leibowitz's Wintry Mix newsletter and getting your hands on both her book, and Wintering by Katherine May. In Caitlin Moran's recent book How to be Hopeful, she recalls sitting on a beach on the 26th August mourning that in two months' time the clocks go back. She was busy hating half the year and in her words, hating half her life. Reading Wintering changed her approach to winter and she accepts that it's ok - more than ok - advisable to make it a slow season. As I write this, there is a little over a week to go before the clocks change and I'm ready for cosy evenings and twinkly lights. It's easy to have a favourite season, and as Moran notes "Having a favourite season - and hating others - is fatal, because you are going to have them all anyway.....You have to learn how to have a good year." And whilst I agree, it won't stop me declaring every season to be my favourite. Each one just comes with different reasons, and as I said earlier, isn't it GREAT that we live somewhere that we get four of them?

As a footnote, I finished writing this just in time to tune into the NHS Forest Conference - a project of the Centre for Sustainable Healthcare, only to discover that the first session was an introduction to Deepwood, and we were able to listen to the sounds of an oak tree in Bristol! Thrilling!