Around this time last year, I posted photos of this london plane tree. I didn't know its name or even recognise it as a particular species - it was just my beloved tree which had always been there, as long as I can remember.
I had visited in July to observe what had occurred since spring - the foliage was in it's prime and the bright red immature seed-heads had turned brown already. I didn't expect much to change before the next season, unfortunately I was mistaken.
It pointed a branch like a crooked finger as if to tell me to look into myself, and raised its arm towards the future, while its bark showed me to face what life had in store.
or maybe it was telling me to ...