I’ve twigged why trees are cool

I’M not a tree-hugger – that’s a good way to get skelfs (skelves?). But I do like trees.

Well, how can you not like trees? They’re the lungs of the world. They’re beautiful. Some live for centuries. They give homes and food to millions of creatures.

And they’ve let us use them for building and burning since time inconceivable and never taken it out on us. Not yet, anyway. They might still be thinking about it, because they tend to do things slowly. One night there could be a knock on the door and there will be a silver birch with a grievance and an urge to punch you in the face.

But I’m prepared to take that chance, and thought about planting a tree on a nearby bit of spare ground, where its flowers would brighten our spring and its turning leaves mellow our autumn.

I thought about it because the garden centre where we were lunching with the local branch of the WFGS ( Waiting For God Society) was launching its end of season sale, doing half-price on flowering cherries.

So I mentioned it to my wife

I was lunching with the local Waiting For God Society

and she thought, yes, that would be nice. Then I remembered it was her birthday soon.

And I remembered what age she’d be. And how much older I’d be on my birthday. And how long it takes a tree to grow.

And it occurred to me that by the time the sapling reached its prime, we might be blithering, dribbling, living in a home – or six feet under.

So in effect I’d be planting a tree for whoever buys our house when we’re gone.

It’s a long-term project, a tree. Not for instant gratification. But then, for that very reason it’s a sign of faith in the future, like having a child but one that lives in the garden and doesn’t cry.

So I considered the world situation, as I do before any purchase from beer to bungalows, and realised faith in the future is in short supply these days. So I planted the tree. And as I look out my window, it’s waving two topmost leaves in the breeze – our way of saying: “Do your worst, Kim Jong-Un”.

Birthdays, though. They demand instant gratification. Any ideas what I can get my wife?