{"id":55983,"title":"Hoya, the Coastal-Tree of Hoylake","description":"From the Greengatherer\u2019s JournalYou can hear the sea in Hoylake long before you reach it.  Sometimes it is the water itself.  Sometimes it is only the wind","content":"

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

You can hear the sea in Hoylake long before you reach it.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Sometimes it is the water itself.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Sometimes it is only the wind.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

And sometimes, I have discovered, it is Hoya.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

She stands back from the shore, where Hoylake still has trees and the open coast can be seen beyond the houses and paths. From beneath her branches there are glimpses towards the great pale flats left behind by the retreating tide.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Hoya is called the Coastal-Tree.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I had always assumed this was because of where she lived.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

\"eusjbujcykpv35l2i2fy7k53y4cmcnguhej3wufteo9e7wq4.jpg.jpg?w=1140&project=beastly-boroughs-416041&v=2\"<\/p>

A Quiet Evening<\/strong><\/p>

I stopped beneath Hoya one evening when the tide was a long way out.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

There was hardly any wind.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Her leaves moved occasionally, but only at their tips. Beyond them the sky was clearing, and the wet sands caught what remained of the evening light.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Then I heard a wave break.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Not loudly.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Just the soft rush of water reaching shore and drawing back across stones.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I looked towards the sea.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

There was no water anywhere near enough.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

In the Branches<\/strong><\/p>

The sound came again.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

This time I realised it was above me.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Hoya's leaves were moving.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Not very much. A slight turning here, another there, passing through the branches from one side of the tree to the other.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The sound followed them.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

A rush.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

A pause.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Then another.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I have heard wind in thousands of trees. It can whisper, whistle, roar and occasionally drop a branch rather closer to a Greengatherer than is considerate.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

This wasn't wind.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

It had the rhythm of waves.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I stepped out from beneath Hoya.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The sound stopped.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I stepped back.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

A wave passed through the branches.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

\u201cThat is interesting,\u201d I said.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Hoya continued being a tree.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The Tide<\/strong><\/p>

I stayed longer than I had intended.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Every so often another wave moved through Hoya's leaves.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

They were never quite the same. Some seemed to reach farther through the branches. Others faded almost as soon as they began.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

After a while, I began counting the space between them.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Then something occurred to me.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I checked the tide times in my notebook.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The water was returning.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Far across the flats, much too distant for me to hear, the sea had begun its journey back towards Hoylake.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I looked up at Hoya.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Her branches were still.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

For several minutes there was nothing.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Then came another wave.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The Coastal-Tree<\/strong><\/p>

I returned the following afternoon.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

There was plenty of wind this time.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Hoya's branches swayed above me, leaves rattling and turning in the moving air.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I listened carefully.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

They sounded exactly like leaves.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

A dog walker passed and gave me the particular look people sometimes give a man standing beneath a tree with his head tilted sideways.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I pretended to be writing something important.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Perhaps the previous evening had been no more than an unusual trick of the wind.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Perhaps sounds carry strangely across the open coast.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Both explanations are perfectly reasonable.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

But occasionally, when the tide is far out and Hoylake becomes very still, I stop beneath Hoya and listen.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I have heard the waves there more than once.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Whether Hoya is remembering the sea or hearing its return before the rest of us, I cannot say.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

And Hoya, like all sensible Treefolk, has never answered the question.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

- From the Greengatherer\u2019s Journal<\/strong><\/p>","urlTitle":"hoya-the-coastal-tree-of-hoylake","url":"\/blog\/hoya-the-coastal-tree-of-hoylake\/","editListUrl":"\/my-blogs","editUrl":"\/my-blogs\/edit\/hoya-the-coastal-tree-of-hoylake\/","fullUrl":"https:\/\/beastlyboroughs.com\/blog\/hoya-the-coastal-tree-of-hoylake\/","featured":false,"published":true,"showOnSitemap":true,"hidden":false,"visibility":null,"createdAt":1776356533,"updatedAt":1788953638,"publishedAt":1788953638,"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\/ak6flkhcz8nlsy0lvexvntyvkvu2fi1gvyb5kkezdbhzrxbi.jpeg","thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ak6flkhcz8nlsy0lvexvntyvkvu2fi1gvyb5kkezdbhzrxbi.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ak6flkhcz8nlsy0lvexvntyvkvu2fi1gvyb5kkezdbhzrxbi.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":[]}