They have nagged me to keep paying to keep this ad free etc but I am not sure that anyone reads my old drivel any more and would they be bothered anyway…there is no Zeb any more, no Lulu. My little heart quite broke when they died. Zeb two years ago, Lulu last year – Brian has two new poodles who came to be with us in January because he doesn’t sleep well without a dog snoring in his ear and I like them lots but… anyway enough of that. Maybe I will write about them but maybe I won’t. But for nostalgia and for love I will keep this name for now and their photo on the masthead.

Here in Bristol it is May, my favourite month, and the sun has come out and it’s got warmer this week. There are new green leaves everywhere, showers of wisteria petals on the street, birds looking hard for insects to eat, as we know there are fewer insects than ever as we have either killed them with chemicals, stripped their habitats both directly and indirectly and I never thought I would miss them but I am worried. Worried and old and sad and useless. Not a player in this world, just a sojourner. So what could I write about that wouldn’t be a bit of a lie, the usual performative stuff for an imagined audience ? Here goes then – here is a beech tree I love. I suspect others do too as there is a wooden bench in front of it. It stands on the upside of a track in the bit of woodland adjacent to Kings Weston House. It’s not very big but it has song thrushes and green woodpeckers, wrens and blackcaps all singing away so if they can manage I reckon it’s a wood of sorts. If you have a phone that can use the free Merlin app you can use it to help you id birds from their calls and songs, it is a delight, no ads, no charges. Try it.

Be more tree – could be something to live by? In various fantasy books I have read the wizard heroes, mostly the men sort, often turn themselves into trees when life gets to be too much. (They usually turn back again and continue their story) I think I would be quite happy to be a tree for a while. Or maybe that thousand year old shark lurking in Antarctica. Somewhere out of the way where no one bothered you too much. Trees do more for me than sharks and are easier to talk to. So I think tree is my first choice. What would you turn into?

Look at those roots and imagine having those at your disposal

And look at the canopy, sunlight through new beech leaves is positively musical – translucent incandescent joy, imagine having those instead of clumsy fingers. Imagine being perched on by squirrels and birds. The wind and the soft night dark and the rain. Honestly I think I would root myself right there and now if someone would kindly give me a wish.