The High Bower, Greenwich Park
The Royal Perch, St James’s Park
The Tree of Knowledge, Richmond Park
Streets, Roundabouts & Rooftops
The One-Way Willow, Swiss Cottage Roundabout
The Burnt Treehouse, Lillie Road
The Flying Oak, Kensington Roof Gardens
The Soldier Fig, Stratford Greenway
The Turnip Tree, Tooting Commons
The Talisman, Wandsworth Common
The Commentary Box, Hackney Marshes
The Fallen Oak, Hampstead Heath
The Holy Holm, Lambeth Palace Gardens
The Widow’s Veil, Chelsea Physic Garden
The Prince of Persia, Kew Gardens
The Peacock Roost, The Hurlingham Club
Branching Out – A Tree Climber’s Glossary
One thing we rarely do in the city is look up. Only time and weather seem to invade our thoughts as we tramp the urban mile. We may raise our eyes to coming rain or the hours called by clocks, but little else breaks our focus on the way to and from – our eternal quest for convenience.
There is another dimension to the city, a world far removed but close at hand. It is a place of limitless space and light, and a simple antidote to the crowds. When we escape into this realm our senses are awakened; we taste cleaner air and see further than the end of the road. Where does this unlikely utopia lie? All around and above you, in the lofty, green canopy of the city’s trees.
The city I inhabit is not so very different from any other. Like all cities it is sculpted from the same fixed matter: steel and glass, stone and brick. But like all cities it is underpinned and overhung by nature. Everything man-made is dug into the soil, and beneath the street a vast network of roots threads the land.
I have climbed trees in London, but wherever you live you cannot be