Beauty of a beech

With it's toes tickling the banks of the River Tweed,  a beauty of a beech stands in a clump of sycamore, poplar and beech, quietly growing so tall and fine that it has taken me nearly four decades to notice it. As a kid I had sausage sizzles and swam in the river here, and as an adult I've hiked the river trails and watched kingfishers zip past and goosanders do their thing. Back in the autumn I was drawn into the wood by a great gnarled beech. It was then I noticed it's neighbour, so straight and towering above me. Determined to see exactly how big it is I made plans to come back and climb it...

Back in November with leaves on....and below, a few months later in January. So tall and straight, the first limb is not until nearly halfway up and took a few throws to get the throwline in!

Superb view from the top! Dropped the tape measure line down a clear run to the ground and then, where it was too skinny for me to climb to, I used a cunning extension kit (aka an old Quasar tent pole) to reach up to the king twig. Adding these two figures together gave a very respectable height of 32.32m!

  

 

 

At 26m: tea anyone?!