Chapter Fourteen #2
‘Now. I think everyone here already has their tree. Raise your hand if you don’t know what I’m talking about.’ They all looked at each other and smiled. ‘As I thought. OK, no need to wait any longer then, off you go, and I will introduce Sara.’
The group scattered, running in different directions and launching themselves at the trees. One by one they crashed into them face first as I watched in horror.
‘What are they doing?’ I asked, bewildered, until I looked a little closer and realised they’d stopped and were clinging onto them. Oh no. ‘Erm… it’s not tree-hugging, is it?’
‘It is.’
‘Right,’ I said, exasperated.
‘Incredibly good for the cortisol levels, you know,’ Henrik said. ‘To physically connect with nature each day.’
‘I’m sure it is, but I don’t think this one’s for me.’
I was a walking, talking cliché.
‘This way.’ Henrik ignored my protests and pointed at a couple of unhugged trees.
He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘You must stay curious, Sara,’ he said urgently.
‘Take your time to walk around. Inhale the trees, try out their trunks for size. Feel the bark against your hands. Don’t rush.
Use all your senses to find the right tree for you. It’ll be out there somewhere.’
I started to reply but he put his finger to his lips and pointed to the others, who were silently enjoying their cuddle-puddle.
Still and quiet and calm. I felt like a right idiot, although I wasn’t sure what I was afraid of.
The tree didn’t mind if I hugged it or not, and everyone else was clearly into it, so they weren’t going to judge me.
Henrik walked off into the forest and left me to it.
To hug or not to hug. Let’s face it, no one cared either way.
The nearest tree was stuffed full of branches from top to bottom and I couldn’t see a way to get in there without doing myself some damage.
Sorry, tree, no hot lovin’ for you today.
The forest was full of trees, as you’d expect, so there were plenty to choose from, but not many on brief.
I didn’t want to stray too far from the group and was just about to turn back when I spotted Henrik mid-hug, practising what he preached.
It was a relief to see him. I hadn’t gone too far into the forest, but I was way beyond my comfort zone.
Some of the trees were damp and mossy, some were rough to touch, some were too wide to bother with, but I eventually stopped at a funny-looking one, tall and skinny and wearing its leaves on top, like hair.
I wasn’t really going to hug it though, was I?
Oh, bloody hell.
I looked both ways to check no one was watching, then stepped forward and patted it on the bark like a dog.
Was this my tree? Did it have to choose me as well, like a wand?
I expected it to feel cold and dirty, but the trunk was in a suntrap and had sucked up all the heat from the rays.
It was warm and smooth, and I put my other hand on it, then took a step closer and awkwardly pressed my cheek against its body.
My eyes were open, and a million thoughts raced through my mind.
This is so embarrassing. What was I even doing here?
Had I hugged it for long enough? Was I hugging it right?
Could anyone see me? I closed my eyes, as I’d seen the others do, and gave it thirty seconds, allowing the warmth of the tree to absorb into my body.
For self-heating purposes. Then pulled away.
Done. I stood back and looked up, making sure I’d remember which one was ‘mine’.
It was just the right size to hug in a satisfying way and all the branches were above my head, so no chance of a poke in the eye.
I looked closer and could see some letters etched around the middle.
W-I-L-L-O-W. It didn’t look like a willow tree, unless they grew them differently in Norway.
It was well established though, that was for sure.
This tree had been rooted to this spot for a long, long time.
Growing in the sunshine. No worries or stresses, just absorbing the elements and doing its thing.
I walked back through the forest and caught the tail end of Henrik chatting to the group.
‘Enjoy your tree while you are here. Hug it, talk to it, sit next to it. You all know their names. Sara – yours is called Willow.’
‘Cool, thanks,’ I said. Willow was her name then, not her species. They’d christened the trees on top of everything else… and clearly someone had seen me hugging her. I thought it was meant to be a private moment.
‘Connect as much or as little as you like, but I promise you will notice a difference with two heartfelt hugs a day.’ He shrugged. ‘Have a go and see what you think.’
Celeste nodded enthusiastically, but Will didn’t seem entirely convinced. He had scratches all over his cheeks and a bloodshot eye.
‘You mean we’ve got to do it again later?’ he groaned.
‘Not if you don’t want to, but why not? Ten minutes a day is nothing when you consider the benefits,’ Henrik replied.
‘All this complaining from you young ones,’ Ethel piped up. ‘You don’t have to do anything. But why are you here if not to try something new?’
Will shrugged sheepishly.
‘I will be guiding the alpine touring session after lunch. We’re meeting at three in the farmhouse car park, to give everyone time for digestion. It’s a short drive in the minibus to get to the mountain.’
‘Skiing?’ I whispered to Celeste, excited.
She nodded. ‘The Norwegian version.’
‘Do we hire the kit?’
‘From where?’ She laughed. ‘I’m not sure you’ve got the measure of this place yet, Sara. No, the kit’s all included. They have a ski hut with everything in it at the bottom of the mountain.’
My insides did a little dance. Skiing was one of my favourite things to do and another reason Mark and I had got on so well at the start – we were both sailing-skiing shapeshifters, depending on the season.
Nipping over to Chamonix or Val-d'Isère for a cheeky weekend whenever the snow report looked good. Blue skies and powder, with brand-new kit from the hire shop. I liked to have the latest skis, sharp and waxed and ready for action. The idea of a ski hut full of shared, used gear filled me with dread, but if that was all there was, I’d have to make do and mend.
I followed the others down to lunch, giving my knees the occasional bounce to check my suspension levels.
Today was full of gorgeous sunshine, with soft, deep snow after the storm.
Perfect ski conditions. I’d always been more of a fair-weather skier than a throw-myself-down in a white-out and keep my fingers crossed type.
Henrik was already up at the buffet table when I got to lunch. I wanted to ask if we’d get anywhere close to the glacier. Now that would be amazing.
‘Henrik!’ I called, and the entire line turned and frowned.
Ethel rolled her eyes and zipped her lips.
‘Sorry!’ I mouthed at everyone as they carried on clattering about, filling their plates with cheat balls and herb-roasted potatoes. I’d catch him on the way. I suddenly felt lighter and brighter. Skiing today, reflexology on Sunday – my last few days were shaping up nicely.
I helped myself to lunch, then took a table by the window. No tech, no noise, and the food was delicious. It was a relief not to have the pressure of talking. Permission to sit with my own thoughts in peace while still being part of the group.