I felt apprehensive. The tree branches were hanging over our roof and giving squirrels, rats and tree-shrews a convenient route into the loft-space. They had all taken advantage of it and trapping and re-releasing them was getting tedious. I had trimmed what I could from ground-level but it wasn't enough. I could have hired somebody to do it but I am stubbornly independent so I was about to climb a tree for the first time in many years.
The tree was a Takop (Jamaican Cherry), which like me is not native to Thailand but has flourished here. It produces a lot of fruit, the vast majority of which feeds the wildlife. That's fine with me as we have plenty of other fruit to eat.
I slowly started heaving myself upwards with exaggerated care. The branches felt solid and well placed, and the bark gave me a good grip without being too rough but I was exceedingly cautious. It didn't take long reach the upper spreading branches where I could sit and relax. It felt so right to be up there and I immediately regretted giving up tree-climbing some time way back in my teenage years. My perch was at roof level but felt secure on solid branches and secluded by a veil of leaves, so I sat there for a while watching people in distant fields and surprising the in-coming fruit-eating birds.
For a few private minutes I felt a happy sense of peace nestled in that tree. It held and surrounded me and I trusted it.
After guiltily trimming the necessary branches I climbed back down with great concentration. Safety was the priority so I tried not to put all my weight on the same branch and only moved one of my limbs at a time. I knew two people whose lives had significantly changed by falling out of a tree. Both had broken a leg and both had lost all confidence.
As soon as I reached the ground and looked upwards I felt exhilarated and wanted to climb it again straight away but my other safety rule was to stop climbing before I got tired so I didn't. The striking thing was how natural it had felt, almost as though I had been made to climb. There was something about my arms and upper body getting involved in locomotion that made it feel complete. Walking and running are fine ways to travel but going back to the trees was like going home!
My happy place
I struggle with giving myself luxuries that I don't feel I deserve and climbing trees for the fun of it felt like a luxury at 58 years old. I therefore looked for more reasons to climb them.
The first one was fruit bats. I knew they visited the Takop tree every night and I wanted to learn more about them. I have a wildlife camera that is triggered by movement and designed to be left anywhere outside to record the passing animals. Every afternoon I climbed that tree and secured the camera somewhere on the trunk or a branch. Then every morning I went back up to collect it. It took a while to slowly get to know the bats and their habits so I kept climbing for several weeks. The details of what I learned about those mysterious animals are a story for another time but my tree-climbing became more and more confident. I was not taking risks but following the same route every day made it so much easier, and my initial apprehension before my first climb felt embarrasingly cautious.
My trailcam in position and one of the flying foxes it recorded
Another project I had been thinking about was to provide boxes for hole-nesting birds given that our area has very few large, old trees. I actually started by making baskets for them out of materials I found in the garden rather than wooden boxes. Again, the details of this on-going project can wait for another day but it was a great excuse for more tree-climbing. The interesting development was that I had to start climbing different trees and I quickly realised that I had been spoiled by our Takop tree. It was a very easy climb and even the slight stickiness of its leaves seemed to add a bit of security as though the tree was holding me. The other four trees that I have now climbed in our garden are a bit more challenging with less grippy bark, more widely-spaced branches and more swaying in the breeze!
Placing a bird basket-nest five metres up
In a way it makes me feel like I am keeping old age at bay and I probably am to some extent. As we get older a number of things happen including a tendency to be less active, gaining weight and also becoming more careful. Of course, we do slowly lose our physical capabilities but in some ways it feels like a slippery slope that builds its own momentum. The less active we become then the less capable and confident we become so we become even less active. Repeat. I will never have the flexible agility of my18-year-old self again but I see too many people my age who find it hard to climb stairs let alone a tree. I believe that staying as physically active as I can is the best thing I can do for my future self. And tree-climbing is a great part of that.
I think back to those two people I knew who lost every shred of their confidence through falling out of a tree and yet tree-climbing has given me back so much confidence, particularly in my physical ability. Apparently, it's a fine line.
And then came the big one. Our largest tree, an Indian Banyan, whose roots grow deep and strong enough to damage foundations, was according to several people, too close to the house and needed to come down. I hate the idea of felling any tree as it never feels like a positive development but it seemed I had little choice and at least the two young mango trees growing in its shadow might get a boost. I spent weeks staring at the task, planning how to bring down an eight-metre-high tree by myself without damaging any of the plants below. Little by little I worked at it, carefully trimming back the branches I could reach with a saw on a pole from ground level first. Then from a ladder, and finally by climbing. The small electric chainsaw I had borrowed was a big help.
It all went well until I got to the upper third and my head was about six metres off the ground. Handling the chainsaw added an extra dimension that made me feel very unsafe because I was trying to focus on two things at the same time: keeping all body parts away from the dangerous twirling blade plus hanging on to the tree. I'm sure anybody with any expertise in tree-felling would have been horrified at what I was trying to do at that point.
I came back down for a re-think, then scoured the local shops until I found a good quality harness that would keep me from falling and allow me to focus on cutting.
The job is now done, I am safe and no other plants suffered any more than minor damage. The only casualty was my friend's chainsaw that no longer works properly, which I choose to take as a sign that I am not suited to such destructive work. This job had challenged me in ways that made me uncomfortable and I am trying to repay the debt by planting new trees in carefully chosen positions and restricting tree-climbing to my own terms.
Hopefully, I'll never have to do this to a tree or myself again
This garden of ours has given me many highlights over the five years we have been here: from wonderful home-grown fruit to thrilling wildlife encounters but my personal favourite is when my friend, the Takop tree, pulled me up into its canopy and I poked my head beyond its leaves to scan the surrounding flatlands. I felt like a fruit bat. At 18 I might have tried hanging upsidedown but at 58 I know my limitations.
Enjoying the view and the breeze from my tree-top perch
