There’s always a twinge of sadness when he thinks on it but still, Peter can laugh when his English wife is so curious about his very much in the past Narnia lover. “Oh, of course she was never mine, it was never like that. A Tree, and especially a Birch, is for herself alone, and if you are very fortunate, she deigns to be with you, for a time, and then the water and the earth and the sunlight call her back and,” he shrugs a little, “and all that remains is a memory and shards of silvery white bark on your pillow.”