A celebration of trees: December: My 2015 favourites

If William Blake was correct when he said, ‘The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself,’ then I must be a (wo)man of imagination because trees have moved me to tears of joy many times during my 2015 project to photograph a tree (or trees) every day for a year. (You can see the full album of photos here.)

The trees have inspired me with their beauty, encouraged me through their strength and resilience, sheltered me from rain and sleet, fascinated me with their history and stories, lured me along trails and pathways, and provided colour on grey days.

To close the door on this year of trees I thought I would share some of my favourites. The selection process hasn’t been easy and these are not necessarily my best photographs, but rather trees or moments in time that have touched me more deeply.

Though my project will soon end, trees will definitely continue to feature strongly in my photographic choices, and I will always treasure the time I spend amongst them.

This tree was a favourite during the time I was living in Cheshire, close to home and perfectly positioned for stunning sunsets.

This long lime avenue at Great Budworth looks beautiful in all seasons but is magical under a dusting of snow.

This is another favourite tree, perfectly positioned in the landscape, growing in a field above Pickmere lake.

Ah, Arley! I walked by this lake so many times, in all seasons, and always paused in this spot to admire the view.

This was another favourite walk, across fields on my way home after a pleasant hour or three birdwatching in the woodlands and the hides on the edge of this lake, Budworth Mere.

Though this was taken for its scary feel – the ‘Little House in the Woods’ – these woods are anything but scary, as you will see from another photograph of them below.

This was another early favourite and, once again, both close to where I was living and on a regular walking circuit.

This beech avenue at Tatton Park was originally planted in 1739 – such stately ancient trees they are.

Imagine what tales this enormous Horse Chestnut could tell. It's another of the glorious old trees at Tatton Park.

The greening of the woodlands at Marbury Country Park was a joy to see after the long cold days of winter.

Admittedly, the tree here features less than the vibrant yellow of the rape flowers but what a happy scene. It always makes me smile.

From my 10 weeks back in New Zealand in May/June/July, I’ve chosen this enormous Moreton Bay fig tree in Cornwall Park. It’s not a New Zealand native but I couldn’t resist its grandeur.

One of the many beautiful places I visited when staying with friends in Wisconsin in July, with stunning trees and the bonus of a covered bridge.

And so to my new life in Cardiff and this superb avenue of ginkgoes that runs from the castle to the mews. As you saw in my November tree blog, I have photographed these often since I moved here.

Another wonderfully geometric avenue on one of my walking circuits – these trees run across Pontcanna Fields.

This section of the Taff Trail is another of my regular walks, yet I never cease to be amazed by the beauty of the trees and the river.

From a short visit back to Cheshire and a quick re-walking of my favourite trails. These are the same trees that featured in the ‘Little House in the Woods’ above. Not at all scary now!

The towpath alongside the Trent and Mersey Canal is such a pretty place to walk, especially in the leafy green of late summer.

Back to Cardiff, to the magnificent Bute Park, to the gorgeous colours of autumn …

One final vibrant burst of colour from these trees alongside Cardiff Castle and a glorious end to my year of trees.

If you want to take a look at my monthly tree blogs, here are the links: January (one particular favourite), February (about lime avenues), March (on the subject of forests), April (about the greening of the trees in the British springtime),   May (on the New Zealand pohutukawa), June (about some of Auckland’s most notable trees), July (honouring ten wondrous trees from my international travels), August (following pathways through forests and woodlands), September (about dead trees that have been given new life), October (the beautiful colours of autumn in Cardiff), and November (the gorgeous avenue of ginkgoes in Cardiff’s Bute Park).

Cheshire: pubs and their signs 8

‘Keep your libraries, your penal institutions, your insane-asylums ... give me beer. You think man needs rule, he needs beer. The world does not need morals, it needs beer ... The souls of men have been fed with indigestibles, but the soul could make use of beer.’ ~ Henry Miller

Here are some more of the pubs in Cheshire that would make Henry Miller a happy man!

The Bricklayers Arms, Altrincham

Now sitting on the outskirts of Manchester city, Altrincham has long been a thriving market town, though it really took off in the 18th century when canal and railway links greatly improved transportation. The Butchers Arms isn’t quite that old but does date to the beginning of the 19th century, so perhaps was built to take advantage of Altrincham’s growth.

The sign is interesting. It shows a variation of the coat of arms of the Worshipful Company of Tylers and Bricklayers, one of the ancient Livery Companies of the City of London. Members of the Company would once have held a monopoly over all roof and floor tile- and brick-laying in London but, like all the Livery Companies, now exists only as a charitable body to promote excellence in its associated industries. The mottos read: ‘In God is all our trust’ and, the one I particularly like, ‘Let us never be confounded’.

The Axe and Cleaver, Dunham Massey

This is one of the few pubs I’ve blogged about that I’ve actually had a drink at. 

Sitting in the garden on a hot summer’s day, sipping on a rather delicious thirst-quenching pint of cider, was perfect after a long walk along the Bridgewater Canal.

The Axe and Cleaver dates from around 1880 and was originally a private house whose owners held a beer licence. It has since been modified and added to, though the coaching-inn-style outbuildings are original and are listed buildings. 

The setting is delightful and I’m told the food is hearty so it’s a great way to end a day out at the National Trust property at Dunham Massey, which is close by.  

The Hare and Hounds, Crowton 

This public house is around 300 years old and is one of the meeting places for the Cheshire Hunt, so is aptly named. And, though I don’t approve of hunting hares with hounds, I have included it here for its interesting signs. The one showing the frantic hare being pursued by eager hounds is the usual image associated with this type of hunting but I much prefer the image on the other sign, where the hare sits calmly in a clump of grass on one side of a stream while the two hounds stand thwarted from their blood-thirsty work on the other side. One up for the hare!

The Tunnel Top, Dutton

According to its own website, the Tunnel Top

has stood above the Preston Brook Tunnel on the Trent & Mersey Canal since 1903. The pub has seen many changes over time yet has remained at the heart of a local community for many years and is still inviting for passing travellers and canal users throughout the year. Many local walks can be commenced from the pub, for those interested in rural history.

This public house was formerly named the Talbot Arms, after its landlord Mr Talbot, who retired not too many years ago at the grand old age of 93. And, as the website says, it is perfectly situated for a beer at the end of a countryside stroll.

 

The Chetwode Arms, Lower Whitley

This is another public house where I’ve enjoyed a drop of the local cider, as it is alos perfectly situated, on a quiet side road off the A9 and just along from a charming old country church that is also worth a look. 

The Arms is said to be 400 years old and is a charming maze of tiny rooms and alleyways. 

The coat of arms on the sign comes from the Chetwode family, the most famous of whom was Sir John Chetwode (1764-1845), who was born in Cheshire, in Stockport, and served as Cheshire’s High Sheriff in the late 1780s before commencing a parliamentary career. 

I’m not sure of the family’s connection with this particular pub – perhaps they owned the land hereabouts at some point.

The Old Black Bear, Sandbach

I grabbed photos of these last two pubs during a very brief visit to Sandbach to see the town’s famous 9th-century Anglo-Saxon crosses, and I was so charmed by the bear on the roof of the Old Black Bear that I forgot to take a close up photo of the pub’s sign.

As you can see from the photo, this is a very old building, dating from 1634, and a wonderful example of the half-timbered properties to be found in many of Cheshire’s market towns. Not surprisingly, this is a Grade II listed building, with plenty of heritage features: the moulded wood mullions, the gables and (restored) bargeboards, exposed ceiling beams and framing timbers. And what a superb job the thatcher has done of the new roof!

The Wheatsheaf, Sandbach

This public house is much more recent than the Old Black Bear, built in 1890 at the request of Lord Crewe to provide a shuttle service for travellers to Sandbach Station, according to Joan Alcock in her book Cheshire Inn Signs (The History Press, Stroud, 2008). Apparently, it also served as the headquarters for the American GIs who were billeted in this area during World War Two.

I haven’t discovered the origin of the pub’s name but a wheatsheaf would’ve been a common sight in the fields surrounding the town in the days before modern harvesting equipment, and the sign is a lovely example of the art of signwriting.

Unhinged?

Elaborate floral design on chapel door at Cathays Cemetery

The hinge is a bit like the wheel or the zip – it’s one of those everyday objects we take for granted yet where would we be without it? Unhinged?

The origin of the hinge is obscured by the mists of time. Archaeologists have uncovered metal hinges from cultures that flourished between 4000 and 5000 years ago, and it’s likely there were even earlier ones, made from perishable materials like animal leather and wood, that simply haven’t survived.

The Romans even had a goddess of the hinge, Cardea or Carda, one of the three gods who attended to all doorway matters, though this was more to do with the Roman rituals surrounding the definition of boundaries and sacred spaces than with the physical hinge itself. 

Interestingly, the goddess’s name survives in modern language: it is the origin of the word cardinal (think pivotal member of the church hierarchy) and in the geographical term cardinal point (the cardo was the main north-south road in a Roman settlement, the road that served to align their terrestrial and celestial spaces).

Simple, yet elegant hinge design at Cardiff Castle

In the earliest days of metal production, all items were expensive and labour-intensive to produce, so only the rich and powerful could afford elaborate hinges on their doors and gates. As metal alloys were developed and knowledge of metalworking spread, the more basic hinge designs were adopted for use by ordinary people, though the most ornamental hinges remained a privilege of the wealthy through to modern times.

Another simple design, on the rear door of the yet-to-be-restored belltower at Cathays Cemetery

Lots of metal, yet a simple hinge, on this old door at the Bishop's Palace, in Llandaff

Many of the hinges that survive today from medieval through to Victorian times are on public buildings like city halls, museums and churches, and on the manor houses, mansions and castles of the very well-off. They are works of art, fashioned by skilled craftsmen – usually blacksmiths – into wonderfully ornate designs, embellished with scrolls and curlicues, and nature-inspired branches, leaves and flowers.

St Andrew's Church, Cardiff, with an ornate design for the front door and a more simple hinge for the side door

You might think I’m ‘unhinged’ for even noticing the door hinge but how could I not when there are so many beautiful examples on the buildings here in Cardiff. Even the more simple designs are noteworthy for the very fact that they were almost certainly handmade, while the most sophisticated designs deserve to be celebrated in art galleries and museums for their exquisite artistry.

I give you the hinge!

On the front doors of the Trevithick Building at Cardiff University (with beautiful wooden carving above)

Two old churches in Cardiff city

On the entrance gate to the West Lodge at Cardiff Castle

The main entrance door to Llandaff Cathedral

Llandaff Cathedral: left, a close-up on the main entrance door, and, right, a side door

The side and front doors of St Margaret's Church in Roath