I'm beginning to regret my choice of tree. Not only did the coffee shop which had been a strong factor in my choice of location close, and not only is it a bit further from home than truly convenient, and not only am I still unclear what it is . . . . the light vanishes whenever I arrive to look at it.
In other months I've been largely to blame because I didn't properly allow for winter evenings drawing in as early as they do. Once we're past January I think we've hit summer and am a bit put out when forced to acknowledge we haven't got there yet.
But this time it was morning. No rain had been forecast and it was sunny when I set out. So what went wrong? Only that by the time I got there a mist had come in from the sea. That's what! The trees had started to drip. It was the Weymouth Kite Festival and the view from my tree should have been of the beach, the sea and colourful kites against a bright blue sky. You can see the actual view in the picture above. If you concentrate, you can see massive kites floating, sperm-like, in the murk.
Another reason I'm regretting my choice of tree is that it's right by where cars park and beside a path where people walk. What did I expect at the entrance to a park? Well, I didn't think, did I? And as I don't like cars or people in my pictures it makes photographing the tree problematic.
And as for the question of what it is. It seems too short for a sycamore and the dangly bits don't look right for the stalks of helicopter seeds; and the bark seems too flaky; and the wood a bit too red - even given that it was wet when I took this picture of the lichen that had lost its yellowness and turned slimy and green in the damp.
There were red blobs which might have been sticky buds and the unfurling leaves looked as if they might be horse-chestnut . . . but the flowers were pointing down. Conker-tree flowers stick up - like candles.
By next month all should be clear. It'll probably turn out to be something dead ordinary - like a cabbage.
And nearby, to console me for all the mist and dead crabs and slimy lichen and the ignominy of not knowing the identity of what will turn out to be a perfectly obvious tree (though not quite making up for the absence of a coffee shop) . . . . dandelions.
Why are we following trees? Shall we follow dandelions instead? (Perhaps another year!)
The Loose and Leafy Tree Following Link Box
will open at 7am on Thursday 7th
and stay open till 7pm on the 14th (UK Time)