I have always believed that trees are magical and I have good reason for this faith. Many years ago, when I had little more than my seed leaves, we would go for family walks in nearby ancient woods. In the depths of this wood was a magic tree. It was enormous, but then at four years old everything seems pretty big. I have always imagined this tree to be an oak and as that image fits very well into this story an oak it will be. When we eventually reached this mighty oak, after what seemed like hours (of course at four everything does) there was a strict routine to be undertaken. First find appropriate wand/twig, next stand in front of magic tree with eyes tight closed, then wave wand/twig and repeat in tones of awe and majesty the mystical word “abracadabra”. What happened next was without fail a delight, a packet of fruit pastilles mysteriously appeared in my anorak hood, as well as those of my ne’er-do-well brothers. So this continued, the magic tree never let us down; on reflection I am guessing it must have had some kind of sponsorship deal with Rowntrees. That was until the fateful day when for some inexplicable reason I had been separated from my trusty anorak and was wearing some kind of hoodless equivalent. What would become of me? I was doomed to a sweetless existence! My parents insisted that I go through the ritual anyway and that I must trust the tree. So I duly, and most likely tearfully, did just that. And what do you know? I put my hand in my pocket and that clever tree had put my sweets in there, how could I have ever doubted the power of the oak?
My chosen tree, this splendidly tangled medlar, may not be the most classically beautiful but if any tree is going to be magical surely this could be the one. I haven’t tried the spell in front of this wonderful specimen but I think I might, although I would prefer something other than fruit pastilles. I’m not sure you can do requests.