Favourite tree

 Everyone should have a favourite tree. If you’ve not thought about it then you should. I like a huge singular oak tree, one in the middle of a field that has witnessed years in splendid isolation. I was quite impressed with the lone Cyprus at Pebble Beach for its ability to grow where nothing should but with golf anything is, apparently, possible so I’m less impressed. Also, I’m not that keen on a pine - they’re a bit sappy. 

The Long Suffering Husband had wanted to go to Mariposa Grove in Yosemite because he thought big trees were his favourite. When we got there he was disappointed. 

“Maybe these aren’t the trees you are looking for,” I said mangling a movie quote. I’m not sure what it is about America that makes me talk movies.

“Maybe it’s Redwoods I need,” he agreed.

We managed to squeeze in a little stop at a redwood forest on the way. Henry Cowell Redwood Forest in Felton, San Diego was the perfect place to stop. A little forest bathing before nearly dying from the stress of driving in San Francisco was what we both needed. Our powers of prognostication were obviously good. 

“That’s better,” said the LSH, “These are the trees I’m looking for.”

I have to admit they were quite magnificent, if a little too close to each other and sappy for my liking. 

The LSH has a new phone with an AI camera. It has irritated me a little, while I’ve been lying on the forest floor and playing with focal length and shutter speed, he can get a better snap, even while his phone case is flapping. This makes his photos near giant redwoods like being in the hall of mirrors. 

I can see the appeal of a tree that makes you look tall and skinny. 

I have lost my camera lead so all photos from now on in my Facebook photo dumps will be phone photos.