I visited the Flat Oak (my name for it) today, still gnarly, still majestic, still a one off original. What a lovely forest Ent. You could spend ages, and I often do, exploring the nooks and crannies of it's deeply folded bark, home to all sorts of creepy crawlies. It strikes me that I'm just one of a long line of admirers who over the years have made pilgrimages to the Oak, and that trips me out. Knowing I'm standing in the same places, touching the same bark and feeling the same wonder. I dig the continuity. Well anyway, the Oak seems in no worse state than the last time I passed this way; a good thing. So, until I pass this way again it bade it hail and farewell.