{"id":55984,"title":"Druan, the Woodland\u2011Tree of Frankby","description":"I entered Royden Park along a familiar route, where the land rises gently and paths meet without emphasis. The park opened out ahead, shaped less by design than by long use \u2014 grass worn thin in places, fuller where it has been left to grow. The air was even and cool, carrying the sound of birds moving between cover","content":"

From the Greengatherer\u2019s Journal<\/strong><\/p>

There are paths through Royden Park that I have walked often enough to stop thinking about where they lead.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

That can be a mistake.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Druan stands in Frankby where the open park begins to give way to older trees. In daylight she is difficult to mistake: a broad Woodland-Tree, her trunk divided by age, her branches spreading widely above the grass.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I had passed her that afternoon.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I remember because a dog had dropped a stick beside her roots and then spent several minutes looking everywhere except where it had left it.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Druan, as usual, offered no assistance.<\/p>

<\/p>

\"njg7cpqc8fkfqozsmon2zrwuoxfstd8fxpppy99jepftqxiq.jpg.jpg?w=1140&project=beastly-boroughs-416041&v=2\"\u00a0<\/p>

The Longer Way Home<\/strong><\/p>

I returned by the same route towards evening.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The park was quieter now. The last dogs and walkers were heading towards the gates, and beneath the trees the daylight was beginning to thin.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

At the first path crossing, I turned left.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

At the second, I kept straight ahead.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Then I stopped.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Druan was standing beside the path.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I looked at her for some time.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

This was inconvenient.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I had already passed Druan.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Counting Paths<\/strong><\/p>

There are sensible explanations for finding the same tree twice.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The most obvious is that there are many trees.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The second is that a person who spends too much time looking at trees eventually starts confusing them.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

So I walked closer.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

At Druan's roots lay the dog's stick.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I recognised it immediately. One end had been stripped of bark and the other was forked like a small pair of antlers.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I looked behind me.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The path stretched back through the trees exactly as it should.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I looked ahead.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

So did that one.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Druan stood between them.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

\u201cVery well,\u201d I said.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Nothing happened.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

This was probably for the best.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Druan<\/strong><\/p>

I decided to continue.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

A few minutes later I reached another crossing.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

This time I knew precisely where I was.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

At least, I did until I looked to my right.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

There, between two younger trees, stood something with a broad trunk and spreading branches.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I did not go closer.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Instead, I took out my journal and drew Druan as she appeared beside the path.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

While I was drawing, the light faded a little further.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

When I looked up again, there were only two younger trees.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The space between them was empty.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I closed the journal.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The Morning After<\/strong><\/p>

I returned to Royden Park the following morning.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Sunlight lay across the grass. Dogs traced familiar loops. Walkers followed paths that behaved exactly as paths are expected to behave.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

And Druan stood precisely where she had always stood.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The stick was still beside her roots.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I checked.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

There was only one Druan.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I walked around her once, largely to satisfy myself that another had not somehow been hidden behind the first.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Then I noticed something scratched into the soil beneath her lowest branch.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Two lines crossed one another.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

They looked remarkably like paths.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

They might have been made by birds.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Or a dog.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Or the end of a fallen twig moving in the wind.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I copied them into the journal anyway.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

When I left, I took the familiar route.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I did not see Druan again.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

But at every crossing, I found myself looking.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

- From the Greengatherer\u2019s Journal<\/strong><\/p>","urlTitle":"druan-the-woodland-tree-of-frankby","url":"\/blog\/druan-the-woodland-tree-of-frankby\/","editListUrl":"\/my-blogs","editUrl":"\/my-blogs\/edit\/druan-the-woodland-tree-of-frankby\/","fullUrl":"https:\/\/beastlyboroughs.com\/blog\/druan-the-woodland-tree-of-frankby\/","featured":false,"published":true,"showOnSitemap":true,"hidden":false,"visibility":null,"createdAt":1776356630,"updatedAt":1788949903,"publishedAt":1788949903,"lastReadAt":null,"division":{"id":405864,"name":"Beastly Boroughs"},"tags":[{"id":4548,"code":"the-green-gatherersjournal","name":"TheGreenGatherersjournal","url":"\/blog\/tagged\/the-green-gatherersjournal\/"}],"metaImage":{"original":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/qwizxdhpqhc4zkjwwhcczbplj9sv0nngwvi1nr5mygmfcgno.jpeg","thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/qwizxdhpqhc4zkjwwhcczbplj9sv0nngwvi1nr5mygmfcgno.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/qwizxdhpqhc4zkjwwhcczbplj9sv0nngwvi1nr5mygmfcgno.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"metaTitle":"","metaDescription":"","keyPhraseCampaignId":null,"series":[],"similarReads":[{"id":55964,"title":"Meet the Greengatherer \u2014 Walking the Peninsula","url":"\/blog\/meet-the-greengatherer-walking-the-peninsula\/","urlTitle":"meet-the-greengatherer-walking-the-peninsula","division":405864,"description":"When the wind turns from the sea and the light begins to change, I find myself walking again.  The air carries salt and leaf together. Grass shifts","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/urqfwx4ql0sc1n4eeik3ecnqfumjhvcnipn7uf858juezvx3.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/urqfwx4ql0sc1n4eeik3ecnqfumjhvcnipn7uf858juezvx3.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0},{"id":55966,"title":"When the Roots Begin to Stir","url":"\/blog\/when-the-roots-begin-to-stir\/","urlTitle":"when-the-roots-begin-to-stir","division":405864,"description":"A Spring Entry from the Greengatherer\u2019s Journal The frost has loosened its hold.  I felt it first beneath my feet.  The ground no longer hums with winter\u2019s stillness; instead, there is a quiet stirring below \u2014 a slow unfurling","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/vjxlm0ulpn2hrseew7evoktbhzbe7xhin9nqhdivzxhv3arb.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/vjxlm0ulpn2hrseew7evoktbhzbe7xhin9nqhdivzxhv3arb.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0},{"id":55982,"title":"Beba, the Beech-Tree of Bebington","url":"\/blog\/beba-the-beech-tree-of-bebington\/","urlTitle":"beba-the-beech-tree-of-bebington","division":405864,"description":"From the Greengatherer\u2019s JournalMorning comes quietly here.  Before the village has fully stirred, before gates open and paths grow busy, light begins to gather across the grass.  Beba stands within it","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/keqxqwh89nnuolssafm6yohmfazhw8q1tgqnz5nisgwkdpqq.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/keqxqwh89nnuolssafm6yohmfazhw8q1tgqnz5nisgwkdpqq.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0}],"labels":[]}