This reportage goes out to all the lovers in the world, united and aspiring, one and all. Behold the beauty of the Rose Tree. The Rose Tree can be found in Coles Copse, near Effingham Forest, in the Surrey Hills. It has been a site of pilgrimage for the denizens of north Surrey since at least 1967. History buffs will be familiar with that year as the ‘Summer of Love’, wherein north Surrey residents undertook their own restrained and demur version of free love in solidarity with the citizens of San Francisco. Rupert and Tarquin first discovered the power of the Rose Tree. Rupert was a soppy sort with short back and sides, and despite his boarding school background and emotionless parental environment, he had managed to cultivate a soft heart and romantic dream-life. Thus, when he met Tarquin, all wild haired and unique in his stripy blazer and monkey boots,
The first time I saw Isobel it was raining and I had been walking for a good few miles through the North Downs. I saw a small, appealing clearing in amongst some beech trees in Bagden Wood, so I left the path and sat on a stump in the middle of the clearing. The canopy of the beech trees sheltered me from the rain, so I was able to settle down and stare off into the half-focused distance. I felt comfortable there, despite the rain; I was quiet and content. At first I thought it was the clearing itself which called to me, and it was in a way. There was a veil which hovered behind the colours of the green and yellowing leaves above me, the carpet of auburn beech nuts and old leaves below me, and the glistening blackness of the trees’ bark encircling me. I could feel parts
This hub of activity is called the Crack of the Beech. It’s an on-tree marketplace of ideas where the insects of Charing go to plan for all the futures they can imagine. If you try to imagine one of those futures, that will make one more they have to plan for, so try to make it an interesting, insect-friendly one, okay? Anyway, the Crack of the Beech. To be honest, I was quite surprised by how busy it was, which shows the kinds of prejudices I have about insect life. I moved that stick because why not? I was just a stick! (My apologies to Stick Nation.) Well, why not is because it was actually a ceiling under which a highly important insect meeting was occurring. That big fat beige louse is a security guard called Tom; if you look closely, you can see he’s shaking a tiny little fist at me.
The Society of Bud Kissers was founded in 1482 and thus has a long and distinguished history of welcoming spring. Its members operate individually and as part of a group, depending upon temperament and location. Their principal job is to welcome spring by, as the name suggests, kissing the emergent buds of leaves and flowers. The greater the amount of kisses a plant receives, the more gloriously it will flourish that year. Maisie is the head of the River Great Ouse chapter, and has been bud kissing for most of her life. She was first welcomed as a bud kisser by her grandmother as part of her third birthday ceremonies. Always on the lookout for new members, her grandmother’s keen eye observed Maisie turn down a kiss from Thomas and instead lay a fat one on a daisy. It was therefore foreseen, from an early age, that Maisie would one day
I know it doesn’t look like it, but this is a dinosaur; I found it in Knole Park. It has deliberately camouflaged itself to look like a dead log, but if you stare at the wide, circular opening, you’ll come to see that it’s actually a giant mouth, beckoning you to enter. Dinosaurs are always hungry, even dead ones. This is a standard natural history fact, and it’s why there are armed security guards around the National History Museum at night. Just saying. Anyway, point is, this dinosaur, whom we shall call Deadloggosaurus, wants you to enter, but you’d be wise to hold off on that. For starters, at night, hoards of demonic creatures come scuttling out. Some of them carry a bag of rosehip powder which they spend the night pouring down human noses. Ever wake up with inexplicable allergies? Now you know why. Other things which come out of