“The Rowan tree, Sorbus aucuparia, the mountain ash, the traveller’s tree; a laughing pioneer, it grows where other trees dare not go – further north, higher up in the free mountain air, crouching low against the vicious hill winds and the arctic blasts. Birches huddle together against the cold, but the rowan strides out alone, solitary and bold.”
I am really looking forward to hearing it read – by the author – on Sunday in Cnocan Glade. It’s about the place, the trees, the nature of change and so much more besides. Each time I read it another element – seamlessly woven in – leaps into life.