Wildwood: A Journey Through Trees

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It was enough. I began the eerie, often mournful and sometimes funny process of working out what Roger had left behind. Digging through boxes. Brushing away mouse droppings and spiders' webs. Letters from friends, readers and lovers. A scribbled poem "To Pan". A folder titled "Drowning (Coroners)", which turned out not to be a record of coroners that he had drown- ed, but an account of his research into East Anglian deaths-by-water. It was hard not to get distracted, especially with his notebooks. Each was a small landscape through which it was possible to wander, and within which it was possible to get lost. As I read them, I could sometimes hear him speaking the words, in his scratchy, deep voice. Friendship, I now know, is something that continues after death. We carry on conversing with the dead, running things by them, listening to what they have to say. A geographer recalls the long hot summer of the BP Deepwater Horizon disaster — and the high price New Orleans is paying for America’s appetite for oil. I remember entering the steep-eaved barn into whose topmost room the archive had slowly been gathered. Up two ladders, through a trapdoor, and into the narrow attic. Dusty slant light from a gable window. And boxes: 60 or 70 of them, all but filling the space. A life condensed to a room. I felt overwhelmed, partly by sadness and partly by hopelessness. How could this volume of documents ever be brought under control?

Wildwood: A Journey Through Trees (Audio Download): Roger

An excellent read - lyrical and literate and full of social and historical insights of all kinds' Colin Tudge, Financial Times I spent the afternoon wandering around the farm, exploring the landscape. There was a quiet stillness to the place — a melancholy of loss. But at the same time, everywhere I looked I could see Roger’s presence: it overflowed from the lush wildness encroaching every inch of the landscape; and in the material objects of shepherd huts, abandoned vehicles, his chair by the moat, the piles of wood he had chopped, and the bath tub in which he wallowed. Walnut Tree Farm is the place that Roger built, created from the deep and mutual relationship of a man and the land, intimately shaping each other. I know of nothing uglier or more saddening than a machine-flailed hedge. It speaks of the disdain of nature and craft that still dominates our agriculture.”There's more truth about a camp than a house. Planning laws need not worry the improvising builder because temporary structures are more beautiful anyway, and you don't need permission for them. There's more truth about a camp because that is the position we are in. The house represents what we ourselves would like to be on earth: permanent, rooted, here for eternity. But a camp represents the true reality of things: we're just passing through.” I read the catalogue with trepidation, anxious at the thought of seeing Roger's life reduced to a data-set. But it turned out to be a wonderful document: an accidental epic prose-poem of his life, or a dendrological cross-section of his mind. File RD/TW/5/1/7, for instance, contains entries for: "Calvados; bristlecone pines; dachas; diving; jungle boys and land girls; pixies; protestors; skylarks; timber frame houses" – along with about 70 others: a zany haberdashery of Roger's interests. Cryptic entries abound: "The Oriental Rat Flea" or "Nudged by Languid Mullet". File RD/WLOG/1/1/2 contains "Complete MS of Waterlog with corrections. (With a strong fishy smell)". When you swim, you feel your body for what it mostly is – water – and it begins to move with the water around it. No wonder we feel such sympathy for beached whales; we are beached at birth ourselves. To swim is to experience how it was before you were born. Once in the water, you are immersed in an intensely private world as you were in the womb.” In summer trees are in full leaf. Leaves are made up of small leaflets on either side of a long stem. There are 9 – 13 leaflets in pairs with one at the end. The leaflets are pointed and toothed, with hairs on the lower surface. Female trees will have large bunches of ash keys (seeds) that hang from the branches in clumps. This isn't, of course, where Roger's archive ends: with the final file on the shelf (RD/WTF/15 Aga cooker: 1998–99). The dimensions of his legacy exceed these 23 linear metres. A life lived as variously as his, with the gift for inspiration that his writing possesses, means that his influence ripples unpredictably outwards. Green Man-like, Roger keeps cropping up in unexpected places, speaking in leaves. Letters arrive from around the world: readers who have encountered his work, and been powerfully changed by it. There is a BBC4 film of Waterlog under development, with Simon Beaufoy writing the script. A theatrical adaptation of the same book by Andrew Burton is due to open in Ipswich on 1 June.

Roger Deakin – at ease in the countryside as a poacher with Roger Deakin – at ease in the countryside as a poacher with

When you swim, you feel your body for what it mostly is – water – and it begins to move with the water around it. No wonder we feel such sympathy for beached whales; we are beached at birth ourselves. To swim is to experience how it was before you were born.”With this book Roger Deakin can be counted one of the greatest of all nature writers. His beautiful book should serve to make us appreciate more keenly all that we have here on earth * Mail on Sunday * Deakin likened the tendrils of the tumour that killed him to tree roots penetrating his brain and lived just long enough to be delighted by the concept of the wood wide web, a fitting mycelial metaphor for his relentless urge to make connections of his own. That mission has outlasted him, and this extraordinary insight into his life will lend new complexity and reach to the network. From the walnut tree at his Suffolk home, Roger Deakin embarks upon a quest that takes him through Britain, across Europe, to Central Asia and Australia, in search of what lies behind man's profound and enduring connection with wood and with trees.

Wildwood: A Journey Through Trees eBook : Deakin, Roger

All of us , I believe , carry about in our heads places and landscapes we shall never forget because we have experienced such intensity of life there :places where, like the child that 'feels its life in every limb' in Wordsworth's poem'We are seven' ,our eyes have opened wider, and all our senses have somehow heightened.By way of returning the compliment , we accord these places that have given us such joy a special place in our memories and imaginations. They live on in us, wherever we may be, however far from them.” Roger was someone who never threw anything away. He lived in the same place for nearly 40 years (a timber-framed farmhouse by a spring-fed moat in north Suffolk). And whenever he ran out of space to store things, he just built another shed, raised a barn, or hauled an old railway wagon into the corner of a field – and began to fill that up with stuff, too. So in the strange months after his death, it became clear that the main question facing me as executor was what to do with his vast archive: the many hundreds of notebooks, draft manuscripts, box-files, cassettes and journals in which he had recorded his life.

Almost 1000 species use ash including wood mice, liverworts, wrens, blue tits, bats, lichens, fungi and beetles. Bullfinches will eat ash keys in winter when food is scarce. The caterpillars of many kinds of moth feed on ash leaves. Read more The ash tree is the most common tree in the Kent Downs. With its latin name of Fraxinus excelsior (‘excelsior’ meaning higher), it is often one of the tallest trees in the woods growing to over 35m. There are approximately 150 million mature ash trees in England, Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales and over 2.2 billion trees including saplings. They are shade tolerant when young and demand more light as they grow. They are often found in mixed species woods and they are noticeable as a common hedgerow tree, where they grow tall and majestic, with narrow crowns. Their leaf pattern offers a certain quality of light in the woods that they populate. The ash tree is also one of our most ancient trees, they can live up to 400 years old and have appeared in pollen records and ancient mythologies for centuries. Perfect for fans of Robert Macfarlane and Colin Tudge, Roger Deakin's unmatched exploration of our relationship with trees is autobiography, history, traveller's tale and incisive work in natural history. It will take you into the heart of the woods, where we go 'to grow, learn and change. When you enter the water, something, like a metamorphosis happens. Leaving behind the land, you go through the looking glass surface and enter a new world in which survival, not ambition or desire, is the dominant aim.” verifyErrors }}{{ message }}{{ /verifyErrors }}{{

The Place That Roger Built - Places Journal The Place That Roger Built - Places Journal

One of my favourite kind of books. Few books make you change your habits; this one changed mine -- Will Self * New Statesman * For a writer who inspires such devotion, Roger Deakin’s bibliography is short. He only published one book before he died in 2006, the celebrated Waterlog: A Swimmer’s Journey Through Britain. Later came Wildwood, the epic arboreal treatise that was topped, tailed and published after his death, and then Notes from Walnut Tree Farm, gleaned from his copious jottings about life in the Suffolk ruin he restored and continued to share with wildlife that had moved in during the years of dilapidation. From the walnut tree at his Suffolk home, he embarks upon a quest that takes him through Britain, across Europe, to Central Asia and Australia, in search of what lies behind man's profound and enduring connection with wood and trees. Wildwood is about the element wood, as it exists in nature, in our souls, in our culture and our lives. Perfect for fans of Robert Macfarlane and Colin Tudge, Roger Deakin's unmatched exploration of our relationship with trees is autobiography, history, traveller's tale and incisive work in natural history. It will take you into the heart of the woods, where we go 'to grow, learn and change'The real wages of potters are in the daily silent appreciations of each of their customers as they pour the morning tea from their teapot, or drink coffee from their mug, or eat dinner off their plate. To be this involved in the daily lives of people who appreciate and admire your work enough to buy it must bring deep reassurance. It is a kind of immortality you can enjoy while still living. In autumn ash trees are amongst the first trees to lose their leaves. The leaves often fall while still green, but they may yellow slightly before falling. Ash keys fall from the tree in winter and early spring, and are dispersed by birds and mammals. It was at Walnut Tree Farm that Roger Deakin dedicated almost four decades to the practice of bioregionalism, developing an intimate knowledge of his local landscape and the natural world around him. Here he swam in the moat, slept in the old shepherd’s hut, crawled in the hedge and worked the land: sawing, chopping, raking, hoeing, mowing, scything, planting, harvesting and building. Roger did this because, as he wrote in a notebook: “People ask how a writer connects with the land. The answer is through work.”