Touching trees

On seeking connection with ancient beings

Experimenting with digital art on Procreate

I’m a natural tree hugger. Whenever I am walking in nature I make a point to touch at least one tree I encounter. The bigger, older and gnarlier the better.

Just one simple touch will do, fingers tracing bark is enough to connect. A moment when I shift back towards something more primal, feeling a part of the natural world around me. I rarely feel at home except in moments like these.

The weight of daily life on me lightens a little with every touch. My perspective shifts, I am small and my challenges more so in the face of the universe. These silent sentinels give me an enduring sense of companionship that other more fleeting beings cannot. 

In summer, my fingers tend to reach more for leaves and their smooth, delicate and soft textures. As they seek out light that creates life, against a soundtrack of birdsong, they epitomise vitality. Breathing, feeding, sensing. A reminder that I too am lucky enough to be alive and sensing in this moment. 

In winter, it is an entirely different experience. Sleeping trees, their skeletons laid bare against watery pale skies. It is calm and peace and rest. A reminder that life cannot thrive without rest. It is death that necessitates life. Deciduous leaves lying below dead but not past usefulness, crunching or disintegrating into the damp soil underfoot. 

Today we walked through Brampton Wood, a beautiful ancient woodland with long wide rides to walk down. These ancient lines of light penetrating almost every nook and corner of the forest. Bare trees rule here rather than conifers, those bringers of darkness whatever the season. 

But the ground was cloying, sinking, oozing the water from days of drizzle. 

When we stepped off the path to avoid the worst of the mud I found an extraordinary oak. I knew this must be the tree I touch today.

Two stout trunks connected at the base, twisting around each other in a permanent dance. Close but never quite embracing as they twist spiralling up to the sky before branching off into separate twin canopies. 

Covered in thick riveted bark harsh and unyielding to the touch but softened on one side by dry green moss. The contrast in textures is delightful to my skin. I feel grounded and rooted to the planet as I find connection with this ancient being. It may be one sided but that is all I need.

I stare up through its shadowed branches feeling and wondering at its age. Finding comfort that this tree was here before I was and will be here long after in this protected place. 

Do you touch trees? If not, I recommend you seek out a tree companion next time you have the opportunity.