Country diary: The ‘queen of trees’ is holding a secret | Elizabeth-Jane Burnett

Eggesford Forest, Devon: I thought I was alone in admiring a towering beech in the chilly wood, but I was not

I breathe in the bluebells as a blackcap sings. At the crescendo, a flash of yellow breaks up the blue – a brimstone butterfly flies up to my face, then moves back, approaches, then draws back, repeating the fluttered action until I follow.

Together, we weave through fresh-scented firs before my companion flits away and I realise that I have come further into the forest than intended. My feet start to throb and the wind, as the sky grows overcast, brings a chill. I see the leaves of a vaulted canopy stir overhead and feel the softest carpet of fallen catkins underfoot. Although the threat of rain urges me forwards, a tree, an imposing common beech, makes me stay.