The Oak Tree Folk

This is the story I told my two wee people before we went exploring in the woods as one of our advent activities. We were lucky enough to find two Oak Tree Folk,they asked to come home with us where they now live on our mantelpiece. Their pictures are below and they were created by the talented MamaPixie. Information has been acquired over the years so difficult to site source as all now in my head!


Most people know an Oak tree when they see one. The distinctive shape of their leaves give them away, as do the fruits they produce in the form of acorns. Very tasty...if you are a squirrel! Most people would also know that Oak trees are long lived. 100 years is merely a youngster in Oak tree terms as they can live up to 800 years!. What a great tree! Well insects certainly think Oak trees are great as they provide them with lots of tasty leaves to eat. In fact, the Oak tree has so many insects feasting on it that it has to grow a second set of leaves in the summer. There are probably fewer people know this fact about the Oak, but now you do so you can share it with those that don't. There are two types of Oak in Britain, the English Oak and the Sessile Oak. The second of these is hardier than the first and prefers cooler climates. For these reasons it is more abundant in Scotland.
So, we have learned some things about Oak trees; they have distinctive shaped leaves (which insects think are tasty), they produce acorns (which squirrels think are tasty), they really are ancient and they can grow a second set of leaves. We also know there are two types in Britain and the Sessile likes to grow in Scotland's cooler climate. Some well known facts, others not so well known. Now, if you come closer there is another fact about Oak trees that only a handful of people know and soon it will be known to you too....
Normally when people walk past an Oak tree they notice it but they don't see it, they don't feel it and they don't touch it. They just notice it and keep walking. That's the problem, you will never really get to know something unless you take the time to let it introduce itself to you. For an Oak tree to be able to introduce itself you have to stop, look at it and listen to it. If you do this and put your ear up to it's rough, tough bark you might hear whispering voices. At first you will probably think it is the breeze rustling the leaves but tune your ears to the whispering and you will begin to make out words, words like grow, nurture, look after in male and female voices. These voices are coming from the hollows inside the Oak trees and belong to the Oak Tree Folk.
The Oak Tree Folk are a group of wee people who live in the Oak trees and watch over them. They ensure the trees are healthy and happy. The Oak Tree Folk know the trees are happy if they produce a lot of acorns, if their leaves are lovely and green and if they can feel the energy of the tree pulsing through it's trunk and branches. If the trees are not healthy or are unhappy the Oak Tree Folk nurse them and nurture them. They polish their leaves so they can absorb as much sunlight as possible, they take water down to their roots when days are long and hot so the tree can soak it up, and they sing soft songs to the Oak to soothe them.
The Oak Tree Folk also look after the animals and insects that live in the Oak trees. They help the squirrels find their hidden acorns when they wake up from their slumber on Winter's warmer days. They sit on the eggs of all different birds that nest in the Oak trees so the adults can go out and find food for themselves. When the eggs hatch the Oak Tree Folk chicksit so the parents can find more food for hungry beaks! The Oak Tree Folk even look out for the Oak Apple Gall wasps whose larvae mutate the leaves of the Oak tree to form a gall around themselves. In June and July the larvae hatch out of the gall as adult wasps and the Oak Tree Folk rejoice as the cycle of life begins again. I guess you might be wondering if the wasps harm the Oak trees, if you are the answer is no, they are perfectly harmless. They are also harmless to the Oak Tree Folk as they do not have a sting like some other types of wasps.
So there you go, now you are one of the few people who know about the Oak Tree Folk. Next time you are in the woods and come across an Oak tree you know what to do...go up to it, feel it and listen to it. Who knows you might hear the Oak Tree Folk, in fact if you are lucky enough you might even see them!!

Fighting

Fighting

This is a special post as it is not about nature or my children. It is for my grandpa on the anniversary of his passing and for all those out there who are also affected by Alzheimer's Disease.

All my life I've been fighting.

As a baby I fought illness

that in those days couldn't be

prevented with an injection. 

Surrounded by eight brothers and sisters,

I was always fighting to be heard.

I hated school and constantly thought up

ways to fight the system. 

Then, in my late teens, I discovered

what real fighting was.........

..and the loss that went with it. 

I fought to get employment,

to keep my family fed, clothed and 

with a roof over their heads. 

I tried to fight the emptiness

when my only love left too soon. 

Now I am fighting this disease.

I am fighting to retain my dignity,

I am fighting to make people see

I am still here, I am still me.

They just need to take the time 

to fight the stereotype.

This is my last fight and I can't do it

on my own. 

I don't want to admit defeat, 

but as I sit here in these strange surroundings

I keep asking myself....

...is there anyone out there fighting for me? 

To Be A Child

To Be A Child

To be a child is to:

run with joy to the edge of the sea 

and take the plunge without worrying it's too cold;

to dig, dig, dig down into the sand 

because you want to dig a hole 

and what else could matter more right now?

To be a child is to:

slip and slide down a sandy dune

then run straight up again to slide right back down;

to create pictures in the sand 

that the sea will soon swallow,

leaving space for tomorrow's art.

To be a child is to:

search for treasure on the shoreline

in the form of stones, shells and drift wood;

to take these treasures home and admire them,

enjoy them and turn them into stories about 

carefree, adventurous, fun filled days.

Inspiration

Some of my inspiration

These two wee people and their real love of being outside playing, contemplating, guddling for fish, getting wet, climbing and discovering are my inspiration. 

The Laird and the Puddock

The Laird* and the Puddock**

This story goes back to a time when magic was still common place ( real magic that is not the card trick kind of magic) and when witches (not the kind with pointy hats and broomsticks, the kind with green cloaks and wild hair) were not just found in stories but in everyday life. These witches were in tune with nature and would use berries, bones and burdock to make potions to help all living things. 

At this time there was a young laird called Hamish. Hamish had inherited a very large estate and with it the responsibility of looking after many crofters and lots of creatures, large and small. The laird's parents had tried to teach him to be kind and caring and to understand the land belonged to the people and animals living on it as much as it did to him. However, when Hamish became a teenager he became selfish and unkind and this attitude stayed with him as he entered his 20th year and became the laird. His days would be spent hunting the animals on the estate and he would take aim at any creature that moved. The laird's favourite past time was sitting by the large pond at the edge of the estate and, using his old pea shooter he had since he was a boy, he would shoot at the puddocks , toads and newts that were abundant in the pond. He spent no money on the cottages that the crofters lived in and the roofs were leaking and the walls damp and the wind howled in the windows. Meanwhile, the laird would sit in his castle with a fire blazing in every room and warm rugs on every floor. 

One night the laird was warming himself against the fire, listening to the wind and rain outside when there was a knock at the big wooden front door. The laird sent his servant to answer it and the servant came back to announce that a very wet and cold lady was standing at the door. He stated she only had a green cloak protecting her other clothes from the elements and she wondered if  the owner would be so kind to allow her some warmth for the night. "How dare she!" exclaimed the laird "does she not realise I am the laird and share my house with no one? Send her away!" Reluctantly, and a little scared, the servant went back to pass on the laird's message and the laird never gave a thought as to who or what he had sent out into the cold night. 

A few weeks later the laird was down at the pond with his pea shooter and he took aim at a puddock sitting among the rushes. "Ouch!" said a voice as he fired a pea. "Please don't do that". "Who said that ?" asked the laird looking around. "I did". The laird looked at the puddock and gasped. This wasn't any ordinary puddock, this was a long legged, long eyelashed, talking puddock! The laird reached out and grabbed the puddock with both hands. "I know what you are" he said " you are a princess turned into a frog by a witch. If I kiss you, the story goes, you will turn back into a princess, I will marry you and I will run your land as well as my own!" The puddock neither agreed or disagreed and the laird reached down and kissed it! mmmmmmmwah!

Well, what do you think happened next?...............There wasn't a flash, or even a wee bang,in fact there didn't appear to be anything happening! The laird cautiously opened his eyes and the puddock was still there staring back at him. Except.......it seemed much bigger than it had before. The laird went to speak and instead of a word a croaky noise gargled from his throat. He jumped back in fright and quite literally shot into the air. When he landed the laird examined his hands and feet and discovered they were green! He was a puddock! "Well that wasn't the most pleasant kiss I have ever had" said the puddock "but needs must! Now welcome to our pond your lairdship" For a minute all the laird could do was to sit and stare with his huge puddock eyes. Then he found his voice and stated "Our pond? I think you will find it's MY pond, it's on MY land". "Not quite learnt the moral of the story yet have you? Now please follow me, unless you wish to remain in your present state that is". The laird had no choice but to follow and together they dived into the murky waters of the pond. 

Once in the pond the laird discovered how effective his long hind legs and webbed toes were at assisting him in swimming. He had never really been comfortable in the water and this was a new experience for him. Suddenly, he swam into something jelly-like. "Yuck!" said the laird "Frog spawn". "Actually" said the puddock "it's toad spawn, it's in a long line. If it were frog spawn it would be in a big mass, like over there."

The laird looked to where she was indicating and sure enough there was a mass of thousands of eggs with dark specks in the middle. "That's disgusting" said the laird "and look how many there are, the pond is going to be overrun with frogs!" The puddock replied "actually, there may be thousands of eggs but out of all those only around five will become adult frogs!" The laird was slightly taken aback by this and without thinking he asked " what happens to the others?"  The puddock replied "Well, some are eaten by newts, some are eaten by other tadpoles and some just die. Of course, even when they reach adulthood they are not safe. They could be eaten by birds, or, hit by some uncaring laird who doesn't stop to think what harm he is doing!" The laird said nothing. Just then something swam past him. "A lizard?" he questioned out loud. "No" said the puddock "surely you've seen, or should I say aimed at, a newt before?" The laird could feel embarrassment welling up inside him and he snapped. "Of course I know what a newt is, I am hardly in a position to be thinking straight am I?" "Fine, then you will know that newts are amphibians just like we are, and that newt that swam past us is a male newt as he had a wavy crest. You will also know he is a smooth newt whose numbers are declining due to loss of breeding sites and unthinking lairds!" The laird was beginning to see where this was going. He was also starting to feel the need for air and kicked  out with his long back legs to push himself to the surface .

Once at the surface the laird breathed in cool, refreshing air. He then spied a fly and, instinctively, reached out with his tongue, caught it and ate it before he realised what he was doing. The laird climbed onto the mud at the edge of the pond and looked round for the puddock, there was no sign of her. Suddenly, a long beak reached down toward him, opened up and went to grab the laird who had frozen in fright. Just as the laird was about to become dinner for a heron he was pulled into the water. Spluttering he turned to see who had saved him and saw the bulky, warty body of a toad swimming away. "Thank you for saving my life" he called after the toad. The toad looked round. " I know who you are" he said " you've aimed at me a few times, got my eye the last time.I felt like leaving you to your fate but I couldn't. Everyone deserves a second chance. Also, as a frog you're a close relation. In fact in some countries they wouldn't even distinguish us from one another!" The toad then swam away, but not before the laird had seen his empty eye socket. 

Just as he was wondering how long he would remain a frog for and starting to recall all that his parents had taught him about being kind and caring, the laird felt a tingle in his body. Then, he suddenly found himself standing knee deep in the middle of the pond. "Welcome back" said a familiar voice behind him. The laird turned and saw a woman with a green cloak and wild hair. "My spell only lasts a short time" she said "but I hope it is enough for you to see that every creature is important and is worthy of your respect. I also hope that the next time a stranger comes to your door you won't be as hasty in turning them away!" With that she disappeared. A wet, cold but much more humble laird made his way back to the castle. 

Those around the laird were surprised by the change in him. He was kind and caring, ensured the crofter's homes were made warm and cosy and never again hunted any creatures, big or small. He also never kissed another puddock as life isn't always like a fairytale! He was still partial to the odd fly though! 

The End

* A Scottish landowner

** A frog

(just in case you were a bit puzzled!) 

Caterpillar

Caterpillar

Daddy, Daddy look what I've found.

Hurry, come and see!

Actually, before I show it to you

can you guess what it might be?

Mmmm, let me have a wee think,

what could you have there?

It's safely held within your hands

so I'm guessing it's not a polar bear?

Daddy! Don't be silly

it was having lettuce for its lunch.

A polar bear would much prefer

a fish to munch and crunch!

Ahh so it's something that likes lettuce,

that's another clue.

Tell me is there something special

that this wee creature is able to do?

Oh yes Daddy! You're nearly right,

there certainly is!

Once its tummy is full and fat

it becomes a chrysalis!

And Daddy, wait, did you also know

sometimes to keep the chrysalis safe and dry

a cocoon is spun around it,

but only if it's a moth, not if it's a butterfly?

Wow! Really? I didn't know that.

You know so many interesting things.

Tell me are there any differences

between moth and butterfly wings?

Well Daddy since you ask,

there actually is a few.

Butterfly wings are a wee bit bigger

and much more colourful too.

So... this wee caterpillar in your hands,

what do you think it will turn out to be?

Daddy! How would I know?

You'll just have to wait and see!

Nature's Playground

Nature's Playground

Mummy, can we go outside exploring,

let our imaginations run wild and free?

Outside we can soar to the clouds like a buzzard,

or collect nectar like the busy honey bee.

With sticks we could be knights yielding swords,

or create pictures and patterns in the soft soil.

We could mix up potions of berries and leaves

and watch as they bubble and boil!

We could be pirates with trees as our ships, 

search for treasure and colourful stones.

Or explorers with magnifying glasses

on the hunt for dinosaur bones!

We could go outside and run,

chase the wind as it ruffles our hair,

make our way to the bridge over the burn,

search for the troll who hides under there! 

When we feel a wee bit tired

and need a little rest,

we'll gather up some twigs and moss

to make a big birds nest!

Inside our nest we'll sit

and chatter like birds do,

then when we feel a wee bit peckish

we'll dig up a worm or two! 

Wow! Nature's playground sounds amazing, 

of course you can go outside. 

Just remember if that troll appears

to run away and hide!

Faeries

Faeries

Mummy, are there really faeries? 

Are the stories really true?

Do the wee folk really live

alongside me and you? 

Mummy, do they really flutter

from Buttercup to Daisy?

In the early morning light

silent, still and hazy.

Do they make their homes in toadstools? 

If we look close will we see

a little faerie family 

all sitting down to tea? 

Are their friends the birds and insects

like wrens, butterflies and bees?

Do they all play hide and seek 

among the green leafed trees?

Mummy, have you ever seen one? 

Have you heard their tinkling song? 

Do you think I might see one?

I hope it won't be long!

I think your thoughtful questions

tell you all you need to hear, 

where imaginations flourish

faeries will flutter near. 

Nature's Magic

Nature's Magic

Mummy I am frightened now the nights are getting long,

the sun goes to bed before me,

I can't hear the blackbird's evening song.

The darkness creeps into my room

and casts it's cloak round me,

it makes me dream of monsters and 

scary creatures I can't see. 

Don't be frightened little one,

don't worry your wee head.

Nature's magic is at work while

 you are in your bed.

Though hidden it's your friend the Sun

that gives Moon it's silver glow,

suspended high with twinkling stars 

it looks wondrous from below. 

I promise you no monsters or scary

creatures are lurking out of sight,

only animals that much prefer to

roam about at night. 

Blackbird isn't singing as he's in bed

just like you, 

but listen carefully my precious and

you'll hear a distant twit and an answering twoo. 

Tawny Owl is focused as he hunts

in silent flight.

He looks mysterious and ghost-like

caught in the lunar light. 

So rest your head and close your eyes,

don't let fear stay.

And as you dream so peacefully

night will turn to day. 

Mummy I don't think I am frightened now, 

still I don't want to sleep.

Please let me slip my hand in yours

so at Nature's magic we can peep.