Yew has long been revered as a sacred tree and one of great significance in ancient folklore and religious tradition. Due to their considerable longevity (Yew trees are by far the oldest living things in Britain – some, still alive today, are reputed to be older than Stone Henge) and remarkable ability to regenerate (Yew beams, long since installed into a building, have even been known to sprout again!), yew trees have continually been associated with immortality and rebirth throughout the ages. Yew trees were especially important for Celtic cultures, in which they were believed to possess magical properties against evil and gave the ability to commune with or raise ancestors from the dead (given the right spell!). Later, and for similar reasons, Christianity came to associate the ancient trees with the resurrection, which is why they can usually be found in graveyards (though the trees often predate the church itself – marking sites that would have been of even earlier sacred significance). Besides their death-defying and regenerative powers, the bark contains a unique agent, Taxol, which has the ability to inhibit cancer cell growth. For all these reasons, both natural and symbolic, I feel the need and the sentiment to produce my urns using the exquisite wood from this remarkable tree. I’ve sourced my yew from a local Iron Age fort (where ancient trees have recently been felled to protect the crumbling ruins – something I can’t help but feel a little torn over).