Amongst the mainly Oak and Yew on woodland Sloden Hill is a small stand of mature Beech, one, in the centre, of colossal size. This towering beauty is home to a myriad of life, caterpillars of various colour and form traverse its trunk and bough, a hover fly sits motionless, surveying, while bugs, beetles, ants and a whole group of other weird stuff mill around the trunk. The tree is a world in itself. I walk around the base exploring this wondrous world, when my eyes meet small golden eyes peering from within a water filled hollow in the tree; a common frog. The frog, escaping the sun in its moist hollow, seeing me it retreats in to the dark shade of the tree, until only one eye is visible.
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