Beautiful trees have always been a passion of mine. As a child, I loved climbing into them and watching the world underneath. My favourite trees were the cherry trees in my grandparents’ orchard. I would get in there, find a cosy place to rest my back against, and stay a long time, stuffing my face with cherries. Once, I was told off by my grandmother, who spent ages calling me and panicking that I had been abducted when I didn’t respond. (Never mind that I was fifteen and had the radio with me, so I could probably have been heard from miles around.)
Nowadays, sadly, I merely look at them and take pictures. This particular beauty was near the place where I had a picnic with friends the other day.
I also feature trees a lot in my books. Not surprising, considering where my stories take place. The forest is a character in its own right, giving my characters food and privacy when they need it, as well as flowery meadows for their naughty interludes.
In An Arrow Through the Heart, Ieuan the archer pins the man spying on his lady to a tree with a well‑placed arrow. In Baiting the Bear, Björn climbs up to rescue his heroine’s daughter’s little cat from a tree. In Soothing the Beast, Sigurd pretends to go looking for eggs to escape Frigyth’s questions and ends up making a fool of himself.
There is always a place for beauty in the world, and trees certainly do their share in creating it.