Old trees – centuries old, if not more – with powerful, gnarled branches the likes of which I’ve never seen. We were cruising down the River Yealm and these beauties confronted me from the far bank. If someone showed me a photo of this lush landscape I might have guessed South America, maybe the Far East. Not jolly ole England. And yet – there they are – a line of trees connecting past to present, and standing defiantly in the face of the future. Wow. Breathtaking.