We may no longer rely on their wood for wheels or fish hooks, but trees are essential to our lives Burnt Oak, Gospel Oak, Poplar, St John’s Wood. These are all stops on the Transport for London map, but their names carry dim recollections of a world older than the Underground. The rail network is haunted by memories of trees – Poplar is called after the trees that once flourished there, along the banks of the Thames and the Black Ditch, one of London’s many lost rivers. In centuries past, St John’s Wood was part of the great forest of Middlesex, variously feared for its robber gangs and famous as a rich hunting ground for kings. Gospel Oak was a huge oak tree, marking the parish boundary of St Pancras and Hampstead, which became an outdoor church for nonconformist preachers and their enormous congregations during the 18th century. Burnt Oak was distinguished by a fire-damaged tree. Perhaps it was struck by lightning. Oaks, being taller, generally standing at a distance from each other and carrying more water in their abundant leaves than other trees, are the ones most prone to lightning strikes. (This is partly why the ancient Greeks associated them with Zeus and in Old Norse mythology they were the tree of Thor, the thunder god.) Continue reading...