In a part of The Shire that I frequented as a youth stands a proud and ancient being.
Old Knobbley is a tree, though unlike most trees I know of this one has a nickname (which is - of course - Old Knobbley) and a website (http://www.oldknobbley.com/) !!
The reason this tree has been named is undoubtedly due to its obvious difference to other trees. It has a visible personality, larger even than its own girth. This tactile identity arising from its many 'knobs' conjures thoughts of an eventful past. Though the tales Knobbley tells may often be too subtle for human ears.
What is hard to ignore is Old Knobbley's overt lengthy and rooted history that demands respect from all mortals: its gnarly existence affronting onlookers whilst suggesting a different perspective to man's rushed lives waits to be contemplated.
Knobbley old branch.
The remnants of a rope swing.
Bark worn and smoothed into steps and handholds over the years.
Exploding trunk has formed a hollow.
Rare sighting of a tree's nipple!
Knobbley's Nip!
Suprise at finding Knobbley's Nip.
Friends for life.
