We live in a traditional cottage in north east Scotland. When we moved into our cottage, many years ago, there were six Sitka spruce along one side of the garden. Rangy, poor dying souls; so we got them cut down and taken away. I felt dreadful after this, our garden felt bare and too different. We live in the middle of farmland where it seems that trees and hedges get cut down indiscriminately by the farmers; we did not want to be part of that movement. So we planted new trees; we had to think carefully as our garden isn’t big. It is surrounded by a very old beech hedge, and there is a mature Ash tree in the front and a Field Maple in the back garden. So we planted a Cherry, two Hawthorns (one of which I had grown from a seed) a Maple (Crimson King) a Birch (Snow Queen) and a Rowan/Mountain Ash. The trees have now grown a great deal and are the delight of the garden. We even named out son after a tree, Rowan, as it was traditional here to plant a Rowan tree in the garden of a new house to protect against evil spirits. We wanted our son to be protected and we also thought it was a beautiful name. He rather spoilt the romance when he got his first library card and I found out that he had added Geronimo to his birth name, as he felt he lacked a middle name!
Contributed by Catherine Whiteman