Some of my best friends are trees. It may sound crazy but, when life gets tough, I’ve always found comfort and solace from the company of rooted companions, even as a little girl.
Back then, when it felt as if things were falling apart, I would hide away in the branches of an old apple tree. I whispered my secrets to her and felt held, accepted, loved. Years later, when life threw me more curveballs, I found another tree – this time a young oak, tall and proud – up in the woods above my home village. I would sit leaning against his trunk and feel my breathing slow. My thoughts would stop churning, and a sense of calm would wash over me. One day I went up to the wood and noticed that many trees had been marked for felling and panic overwhelmed me. I raced to my tree, barely daring to look, but he was safe. I flung my arms around him and cried in relief.
We all know that being in nature is good for us – but there’s something extra special about trees. Research into forest bathing shows clear evidence that hanging out in the woods can help our mental health – lessening anxiety, tiredness and depression. There are physiological benefits too, with studies showing spending time with trees can improve our immune function and heart health, lowering our blood pressure and cortisol levels.
Some studies have even found that people are kinder, more generous and more trusting when they’re around trees. Plus there’s evidence that having more trees in urban neighbourhoods can actually reduce crime levels.
If you’ve never made friends with a tree, I’d say just give it a go. Every tree has a different character so be guided by your instincts. I have a passion for oaks, apples, beech and rowan (in fact, I love the wild witchy rowan so much that it plays a large part in my shamanic novel, Walker). Wander in a wood, notice where your heart wants to take you. Then sit with your tree, breathe deeply and just be. Hugging isn’t obligatory but sometimes it has to be done (well, I think so). You may feel yourself moved to write to your tree, to paint, to create a little offering of petals and pebbles at its foot. You might simply sit, in companionable silence. You can tell your deepest darkest secrets to a tree: they don’t judge, they don’t push their egos in your face, they don’t jump to get in their story. They listen. They can be strong and tender, inspiring and bold, warm and loving.
Over these last few difficult years, I have taken much solace in the comfort of trees, finding new friends in my local park. I also loved finding out more of their stories in Adele Nozedar’s lovely book The Tree Forager (Watkins Publishing). We live in tough scary times. Spending time with a tree grounds us and gives perspective.
Jane’s book Ancient Wisdom for Modern Living (Kyle Books, £14.99) is available now. Follow her on social media as @exmoorjane
