Offa's Dyke Trees | Fine Art Tree Photography by Charles Sainsbury-Plaice

August 29, 2026 • Leave a Comment

Walking with Family and Trees Along Offa's Dyke

Why Britain's Ancient Trees Deserve to be Seen as Works of Art

By Charles Sainsbury-Plaice

The first thing that caught my eye was not the view. It was a solitary hawthorn standing proudly above the valley. Twisted by decades, perhaps even centuries, of wind, frost, drought and the continual browsing of sheep, it looked more like a sculpture than a tree. Charlotte and Bertie continued along the path while, almost instinctively, I unpacked my Hasselblad X2D. For the next twenty minutes I photographed a tree that many walkers would probably have passed without a second glance.

That is the difference between walking with a photographer and walking with someone who simply carries a camera. After more than twenty years photographing Britain's most remarkable trees, I have learnt that every veteran tree has a story waiting to be discovered.

There are few better ways to spend a summer's day than walking through the Welsh Marches with family. My wife Charlotte, one of our four children, Bertie, and I recently walked the Offa's Dyke Path between Knighton and Kington. While they enjoyed the challenge of the miles beneath their boots, I found myself doing what I have done for much of my professional life, slowing down every few hundred yards to admire another remarkable tree. What should have taken a spritely walker 5.5 hours turned into 8 hours!

As a professional countryside, environmental and tree photographer, I have been fortunate to spend over two decades documenting some of Britain's most remarkable trees. My work has been exhibited at Sotheby's as part of The Queen's Green Canopy project and published in the official book The Queen's Green Canopy, celebrating seventy Ancient Trees and seventy Ancient Woodlands to mark Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II's Platinum Jubilee. I also work regularly with the Woodland Trust, using photography to tell the story of Britain's extraordinary arboreal heritage and the vital role trees play in our landscapes.

For this walk I carried my Hasselblad X2D together with a selection of XCD lenses. The extraordinary resolution and tonal range of the system allow me to photograph trees not simply as features within a landscape, but as individual living works of art, revealing every fold of bark, every weathered limb and every shaft of light filtering through ancient woodland.

Every tree has its own character.
Every ancient woodland has its own atmosphere.
Every landscape tells its story through the trees that have shaped it.

This walk was no exception.

A Landscape Written by Trees

The ridge between Knighton and Kington offers some of the finest views along this section of the Offa's Dyke Path and beyond.

Looking across rolling hills, patchwork fields and wooded valleys, it becomes obvious that trees are far more than decoration. Hedgerow oaks, ash trees climbing steep valleys, veteran hawthorns clinging to exposed ridges and scattered woodlands together define the character of the Welsh border country.

Remove the trees and much of what makes this landscape beautiful disappears with them.

Their roots hold the soil together. Their canopies soften the skyline. Their presence connects centuries of farming, wildlife and human history.

The weather could hardly have been better. A deep blue sky, scattered white clouds and warm late summer sunshine illuminated the landscape. Yet the prolonged dry spell was equally apparent. The hillsides were golden, the grasses crisp beneath our feet and the fields carried the unmistakable colours of a countryside thirsty for rain. Against that backdrop, the trees stood out all the more, islands of green resilience in an increasingly parched landscape.

The Veteran Hawthorns

Perhaps the greatest surprise of the day were the hawthorns.

Standing alone on exposed hillsides, many have clearly endured decades, perhaps even centuries, of relentless wind, frost, drought and the continual browsing of sheep. Their trunks have twisted into extraordinary natural sculptures while their branches reach skywards in forms that no artist could ever invent.

These are not neglected trees.

They are veteran trees in every sense, shaped by weather, grazing animals and time itself.

As a photographer, I find trees like this endlessly fascinating because they possess something impossible to manufacture.

Character.

Every scar records another winter survived.
Every hollow has become home to insects, fungi or birds.
Every twisted limb tells another chapter in an extraordinary life.

Giants of the Woodland

Further along the ridge we encountered magnificent veteran oaks.

Some possessed enormous hollow trunks. Others spread vast limbs across the woodland floor, creating entire ecosystems beneath their canopies. Mosses, lichens, fungi, insects, bats and birds all depend upon these ancient living structures.

These trees are not simply old.

They are among Britain's richest habitats.

The older an oak becomes, the more valuable it often becomes to wildlife.

Standing beneath them reminds us how insignificant our own lifetimes really are.

Some may already have been mature when generations of travellers crossed these hills long before the modern walking trail existed.

Ash, Field Maple and Reasons for Optimism

One of the most encouraging sights was the number of magnificent ash trees.

Across much of Britain, ash dieback has transformed familiar landscapes, yet here many mature specimens appeared healthy, vigorous and full of life. Whether these individuals possess some form of resistance to the disease or have simply escaped infection remains to be seen, but seeing them flourishing offered genuine optimism.

Equally striking were the beautiful field maples, one of Britain's most understated native trees. Rarely the largest or oldest species, they nevertheless contribute enormously to our hedgerows and ancient woodlands, providing exceptional autumn colour and supporting a remarkable diversity of insects and wildlife.

It is often the quieter species that help define the character of a landscape.

Granner Wood and the Woodland Trust

One particularly encouraging moment came as we entered Granner Wood, cared for by the Woodland Trust.

Having worked with the Woodland Trust on a number of projects over the years, it was especially rewarding to see first hand the careful restoration taking place here.

Like many woods across Britain, parts of Granner Wood were planted with conifers during the twentieth century. Today those areas are gradually being restored towards native broadleaved woodland, allowing ancient woodland habitats to recover.

Woodland restoration rarely attracts the same attention as planting new forests.

Yet restoring ancient woodland is every bit as important.

Ancient woodland cannot simply be recreated. It represents centuries of uninterrupted ecological continuity. Once lost, it is effectively irreplaceable.

Protecting what survives is one of the greatest gifts we can leave future generations.

Trees Are More Than Beautiful

Trees are often admired simply because they are beautiful.

But they are so much more.

They clean the air we breathe.
They capture and store carbon.
They cool our towns and countryside.
They reduce flooding.
They stabilise fragile soils.
They support thousands of species of plants, insects, birds and mammals.
They make our landscapes more resilient.

As our climate becomes warmer and increasingly unpredictable, trees face mounting pressures from prolonged droughts, heatwaves, flooding, storms, invasive pests and emerging diseases. Alongside these natural challenges come human pressures, where short term commercial interests can all too easily outweigh the immense environmental, cultural and historical value of mature trees and ancient woodland.

No amount of tree planting can replace a veteran oak or an ancient woodland that has taken centuries to develop.

Every ancient tree we lose is the loss of an entire living ecosystem.

Photographing Trees as Works of Art

People often ask why I devote so much of my photography to trees.

The answer is simple.

To me they are among Britain's greatest works of art.

Over the past two decades I have photographed trees across Britain, from the ancient yews of Welsh churchyards and the mighty oaks of historic estates to windswept hawthorns clinging to upland ridges, the iconic beeches of Watership Down and many of Britain's most celebrated veteran trees.

In 2022 I was commissioned, alongside fellow photographer Adrian Houston, to photograph seventy Ancient Trees and seventy Ancient Woodlands across the United Kingdom for the official Queen's Green Canopy project, created to celebrate Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II's Platinum Jubilee. The resulting photographs were exhibited at Sotheby's in London before being published in the official book The Queen's Green Canopy, for which His Majesty King Charles III wrote the foreword.

That experience reinforced something I have long believed.

Britain's greatest natural monuments deserve to be appreciated in exactly the same way as great architecture, sculpture or painting.

No sculptor can match the elegance of a veteran beech.
No architect could design the complexity of an ancient oak.
No painter could invent the patterns of sunlight filtering through a mature woodland.

Photography allows us to preserve these moments, not simply as records, but as portraits of living individuals whose stories continue to shape our landscapes.

My hope is that these photographs encourage people to slow down, look more closely and perhaps discover their own favourite tree.

Because conservation rarely begins with legislation.

It begins with affection.

Only when people value something do they truly begin to protect it.

Sharing a Love of Trees

Perhaps my favourite memory of the day was not one particular photograph.

It was sharing these remarkable trees with Charlotte and Bertie.

They came for the walk.
I came for the trees.

By the end of the day I think we all came away with a little of each other's enthusiasm.

People and dog on walk on Offas Dyke posing for a photo

That, perhaps, is one of the greatest gifts we can pass on to future generations.

Not simply a love of walking.
Not simply a love of trees.

But an understanding that Britain's landscapes are richest when families spend time together outdoors, discovering the natural world one path, one woodland and one remarkable tree at a time.

If these photographs encourage even a handful of people to pause beneath an ancient oak, notice a veteran hawthorn on a hillside or spend a little longer wandering through an old woodland, then they have achieved exactly what I hope my photography can do.

Trees are not simply part of the landscape.

They are the landscape.

They are living monuments to Britain's natural history, shaping the places we love, sustaining the wildlife around us and quietly providing the air we breathe.

For me, there can be no greater privilege than telling their story through a camera. And on a beautiful walk along Offa's Dyke, shared with family, I was reminded once again why they remain among the most inspiring subjects any photographer could hope to encounter.

About the Author

Charles Sainsbury-Plaice is a British countryside, environmental and royal photographer specialising in ancient trees, woodland landscapes and Britain's living natural heritage. His photographs formed part of The Queen's Green Canopy project, were exhibited at Sotheby's, and published in the official commemorative book The Queen's Green Canopy. He works regularly with the Woodland Trust and other conservation organisations, using photography to promote biodiversity, climate resilience and appreciation of Britain's remarkable trees. Working primarily with the Hasselblad X2D system, his fine art tree photography seeks to portray Britain's ancient trees as living works of art.

Why Trees Teach Us to Think in Centuries

By Charles Sainsbury-Plaice

Some books become part of history without anyone quite realising it at the time.

Working as one of the principal photographers on The Queen's Green Canopy was one of the greatest privileges of my career. Over the course of a year, I photographed more than half of the ancient trees and woodlands featured throughout the book, which was published to celebrate Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II's Platinum Jubilee.

The project took me from some of Britain's oldest yew trees to majestic oaks, beeches and ancient woodlands that have witnessed centuries of our national history. Each tree carried its own story, but together they told a much larger one. Trees connect generations in a way few other living things can.

The Foreword was written by HM The King, reflecting his lifelong commitment to the countryside and the environment. Contributors came from many different walks of life, each sharing their own reflections on the importance of trees.

One of those contributors was Andy Burnham, then Mayor of Greater Manchester. His contribution appears on page 103.

Reading his words again, now in the context of his appointment as Prime Minister, prompted me to reflect on how environmental thinking has evolved within British public life.

Trees as Part of Society

Andy Burnham's contribution was not simply about planting trees. It recognised something much broader.

Trees improve the quality of the air we breathe. They help reduce flooding, cool our towns and cities, support wildlife and create healthier places in which to live. They are part of the social fabric of our communities as much as they are part of the natural landscape.

This understanding has gradually become more widely accepted. Successive political leaders have approached the environment in different ways, reflecting the challenges of their own times.

Harold Macmillan understood stewardship through his lifelong interest in woodland and forestry. Margaret Thatcher helped place climate science on the international political agenda. Theresa May's 25 Year Environment Plan set out the ambition for England to become the first generation to leave the natural environment in a better state than it inherited.

Today, climate resilience, biodiversity recovery, water quality and natural capital have become central to discussions about Britain's future.

Yet there remains a paradox.

We have never understood more about the importance of nature, yet nature itself continues to face enormous pressure.

Nature and the Economy

For many years, environmental protection and economic growth were presented as competing priorities. I believe that distinction is increasingly outdated.

A healthy natural environment is not separate from a successful economy. It is one of its foundations.

Healthy rivers can reduce water treatment costs. Woodlands store carbon, slow the movement of water through the landscape and support physical and mental wellbeing. Healthy soils underpin productive farming. Nature attracts visitors, sustains rural businesses and provides renewable materials for construction, furniture and manufacturing.

Governments, businesses and investors increasingly understand the economic importance of natural capital. The harder task is rebuilding our relationship with the natural world, so that woodlands, rivers and wildlife are not simply treated as environmental assets, but as living parts of our culture, economy and communities.

Nature should be economically valuable, but not economically exploited. The challenge is to create systems in which the responsible use of natural resources supports their long term recovery and resilience.

temperate rainforest at sunset in North Wales

Have We Lost Our Wood Culture?

Photographing Britain's ancient trees has left me wondering whether we have gradually lost something that previous generations understood instinctively.

Our wood culture.

For centuries, woodland was woven into everyday life. It provided timber for homes, ships, furniture, fencing and tools. It supported foresters, coppice workers, sawyers, wheelwrights, charcoal burners and countless rural crafts.

Woodland had value because it was understood, managed and used. Skills were passed from one generation to the next, while working woods provided employment, materials, wildlife habitats and a close relationship between people and place.

Today, we rightly celebrate the planting of millions of trees, but planting is only the beginning.

The real measure of success is not simply how many trees go into the ground. It is how many survive, establish and thrive over the following fifty, one hundred or even three hundred years.

That requires good planning, suitable species selection, protection from browsing, sufficient water during establishment, continuing management and people with the skills and commitment to care for them.

Many organisations are already doing remarkable work to protect ancient trees, establish new woodlands and help communities reconnect with trees.

The Woodland Trust campaigns for the protection of ancient woodland and veteran trees while supporting woodland creation across the United Kingdom.

Action Oak brings together organisations working to protect the nation's oak trees from pests, diseases and other threats.

Trees for Cities works with communities to plant and care for trees in towns and cities, helping more people experience the health, social and environmental benefits of urban trees.

City of Trees is growing Greater Manchester's urban forest, creating greener places, supporting health and wellbeing and developing practical green skills.

More Trees supports tree planting projects that can also provide employment, skills and wider social benefits for local communities.

The Tree Council brings together communities, organisations and government with the shared aim of caring for trees and creating lasting change.

The Sylva Foundation is particularly relevant to the idea of rebuilding a British wood culture. Its work connects forest stewardship with the responsible use of home grown timber, training, innovation and rural enterprise.

Together with foresters, farmers, landowners, researchers, charities and thousands of volunteers, these organisations remind us that tree planting is not a single event. It is the beginning of a long responsibility.

Perhaps our national ambition should therefore be greater than simply planting more trees.

Perhaps we should seek to rebuild Britain's relationship with woodland by using more home grown timber, investing in forestry skills, supporting rural employment and managing woods for both biodiversity and sustainable production.

This could also bring wider benefits. Woodland work can provide purpose, practical skills, community involvement and meaningful contact with the natural world. These are increasingly recognised as important contributors to physical health and mental wellbeing.

Planting Is Only the Beginning

autumnal woodland scene featuring beech trees

A newly planted tree is not yet a woodland.

Its future depends on careful establishment and continuing stewardship. Young trees may need protection from deer, livestock and competing vegetation. They may require watering during periods of drought and management as conditions change.

Success should not be measured only by the number of trees planted in a single season. It should also be measured by survival rates, healthy growth, ecological value and the ability of new woodlands to become resilient parts of the wider landscape.

This is especially important as the climate changes. The trees we plant now may experience very different temperatures, rainfall patterns, pests and diseases during their lifetimes.

We therefore need to combine the protection of ancient trees and native woodland with thoughtful planning for the future. That means selecting trees suited to local soils and landscapes while also considering the conditions they may face in fifty or one hundred years.

Thinking in Centuries

The greatest lesson I learnt while working on The Queen's Green Canopy came not from the people I met, but from the trees themselves.

Every ancient oak, beech and yew had survived monarchs, governments, wars and countless Prime Ministers.

They remind us that while politics often measures success in years, nature measures it in centuries.

Perhaps that should influence how we think about environmental leadership.

We should not simply ask how many trees were planted, but whether they survived.

We should not simply celebrate strategies and targets, but ask whether future generations will inherit cleaner rivers, richer wildlife, healthier soils and more resilient landscapes.

We should also ask whether the trees planted today will become the productive woods, wildlife habitats and ancient trees of the future.

That, to me, is the enduring message of The Queen's Green Canopy.

It was never simply about planting trees.

It was about stewardship.

It was about legacy.

Above all, it was about recognising that the decisions we make today will shape Britain's landscape long after we are gone.

Have we lost our wood culture, and what should we do to rebuild it?