Who can see the trees for the wood

when off-duty a medieval archer had to guard against being poisoned by the wood of his own longbow.

Fast-forward 526 years and The Long, Long Life of Trees explains how the RAF’s Mosquito bomber was constructed from ash after Geoffrey de Havilland bypassed the shortage of more obvious aviation components. So efficient was his wooden Mosquito that Hermann Göring raged about how an aircraft made in British piano factories could be used with such deadly effect over the Fatherland.

Stafford’s study of trees isn’t just some airy-fairy tree-hugging peek at her subject matter — it’s a proper nutsand-bolts job. Chapters dedicated to tree species and their importance in history fascinate with their historical and geographical nuggets. When Canada became independent, the shackles of the British Empire may have been shaken off but only up to a point. The new country’s maple leaf flag is, argues Stafford, a sign of the “desire for long-term stability. Trees, with their indigenous credentials and perpetual habit of renewal, were perfect for the purpose.”

Britain’s wealth was built on one tree — the oak. It’s hardness meant that fleets of ships could set forth to trade around the globe. So too the oak has bailed out the royal family on one notable occasion. King Charles II was able to use an oak to hide in at Boscobel, ensuring the heir to the throne didn’t meet the same end as his father.

You get the picture: this is a truly exhaustive study of trees. So much so that any budding tree authors would do well to learn another specialist subject — the author’s, ahem, root and branch treatment of trees is destined to be a definitive one. Accessible and beautifully illustrated with a mix of old, out-of-copyright woodcuts and newly commissioned ones, it is highly recommended. Buy a copy as holiday reading and your plane’s descent over the Home Counties will offer you a chance to put your new-found knowledge into context.