It's long been a habit of mine to eat trees full of apples.
Orchards of the things I must have gotten through in my time.
I think it dates back to my TV reporting days.
I vaguely remember once getting worried about my weight, in one of those angst moments of the thirties, and deciding to cut out biscuits, and chocolate, and other such snacks.
But that left me lacking energy in a job where energy is essential. So I started eating apples instead, and never stopped.
I would always respect nature's ingenuity and try to dispose of the cores somewhere they might find new life, in a patch of trees, or scrubland.
And my dear cameraman, Adie, would often say, "That's another apple tree planted."
He was convinced I was responsible for dozens of saplings, springing up across the south west.
Why mention this strange little tale now?
Because it's been making me smile, as a comparison with my another form of planting trees -
I received a wonderful message from a woman who came to a talk I did, and who I spent a few minutes chatting to about how to write a book.
That's Alex, on the far right, in a selfie from the Winchester Writers' Festival.
Well, little did I know what an impact that conversation would have. Until she got in touch to let me know about a blog she'd written on the subject.
One of the few questions I get asked that I never understand is - why am I so committed to teaching?
But now I have a very simple answer, right there, in that uplifting (and, frankly, tear inducing) blog.
Why am I so committed to teaching?
It's a legacy thing.
You just never know when you'll plant a beautiful apple tree.