Just so you know, in a few sentences time you will be thinking I have lost my mind, although, Dear Reader, I understand you may have already come to that conclusion, many blogs ago.
This morning, too early to talk about, I took the Happiest Dog in the World for a walk, along the Path of the Angels, through the Small Woods of Wonder. It was dark but we were sure of foot, without looking, through the brambles without a scratch, stopping briefly, like most days, so I could hug The Nettle Tree.

For me, the thing with trees started when I was a kid, about seven. One afternoon my mum and I came home and disturbed a burglar, who came running down the stairs, wearing a mask and holding a lump hammer, and shouting, pushed past us in the hallway, and made his getaway. He was soon caught and convicted, and my mum seemed to quickly forget about it.
I remained terrified, just the same as the moment I saw him there, and heard him, at the top of the stairs.
So, I was taken to see someone at the hospital , an old Victorian workhouse, a vast site with massive buildings, two water towers, and a lot of barbed wire.
I was put in a room with a lot of toys, and a lady with a name badge sat in an armchair and watched me play, then talked to my mum, and we left.
In the car park there was a cherry blossom tree, and for no particular reason I ran over to it and gave it a hug, a proper with-all-my-might hug, and I wasn’t terrified any more. I called it my Happy Tree, and I like to think it’s still there, and still sometimes gets a mighty hug, and still works its magic.
There are so many simple, sometimes silly, even crazy things we sometimes do, without reason, that work, they make us feel better.
Something as simple as looking up, literally makes us feel part of a bigger world.
A long, hard and loving look in the mirror helps us feel better about ourselves.
A couple of minutes of slow, methodical breathing brings us calm.
Looking at happy photos we revisit happy feelings.
Hugging someone, or a tree, cannot help but make us feel more connected.
The Nettle Tree hugs have been going on for about a year, and hugging the ugliest tree in the woods, surrounded by brambles and nettles, has helped me make more effort to be kinder to people I find hard to love. I didn’t start the hugs for that reason, but I’m happy with how it has worked out.
There is a little bit of method in my madness, as I’m sure there is in yours.
Next time you walk past a tree you like the look of, Dear Reader, name it, and you’ll see it’s not just a tree anymore.
With love, Alisdair X
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