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When I was asked to write a story about my favourite tree, I wanted it to be about one of my big old gums, but I kept feeling a pull back to my old faithful, my ever-changing Crepe Myrtle.
By Jessica Charlton
Every season sees her turn into a different version of herself. Each one as beautiful as the one before. In the spring she awakens and her leaves start to emerge.
This is the second in our series of ‘Tree stories’. Tea for Trees invites you to think about a tree (or trees) that is a favourite of yours, that is special for you in some way, and to write a short story (or poem) about what this tree (trees) means to you. From time to time all those who submit their story (or poem) will go into a draw to win an original painting of a koala by a local artist. Send your story to Tea for Trees for publication on The Point and sharing in The Point e-news.
The shadows that she casts at this stage are my favourite. The light trickles through the leaves creating a gentle dancing show of patterns that hypnotise and relax me.
These are the times when she is my healer. I lay on my hammock underneath her shadows and the rocking of the hammock and the glimpses of sky through her branches lull me into a sense of peace that I feel nowhere else.
As the days get hotter her flower buds start to appear.
It always feels like they bloom all at once.
I wake up one day and suddenly she has exploded into a show of colour. She is now a gathering point for the bees, butterflies and birds. All excited to have a taste of her sweet summer flowers.
When the blooms have had enough of showing off, they start to trickle to the ground leaving a soft pink carpet.
As the days get shorter, her leaves start to fall again. They have had their time and now they make room for the next generation to be born.
When she is bare it doesn’t take away any of her beauty. Now her branches can be admired without the blooms and leaves taking all the glory.
Her bark is smooth and mottled and I feel a compulsion to run my hand along her every time I walk past.
Summer is when she has the most company.
My thoughts about this tree are always interwoven with the nostalgia of watching my children grow. She has witnessed some of the most joyful moments of my life with me.
It is under her canopy of protection that we set up the pool. The pool has seemed to shrink over the years but that is an illusion. It is not the pool shrinking but the kids growing.
The thought is so bitter-sweet that it makes my heart ache.
She has heard squeals of delight and cries of pain when someone falls over or gets the dreaded splash of water in their eyes!
Still, she stands steadfast and strong, always my companion. She has watched every single Christmas day. It is under her shade that we congregate for the day. I feel like the luckiest person in the world at these times. She shields us from the sun so we can eat, laugh and love in comfort.
As I write this, I feel my father-in-law with me. My strongest memories of him are under that tree. My son sitting on his lap while he tells him silly jokes and makes funny faces.
The way he was always reminding me to slow down and enjoy the moment. Although he did once try to cut one of her branches but was stopped just in time! I think she has forgiven him for that.
I wish he could be like my tree. I wish I could look out my window and see him standing there.
The hammock that hangs from her strong body is where I have been my most vulnerable. The only place where my tears come freely. I release my hurt, my worries and my joy. She is always there listening quietly. No need for words.
Her shadows fall across my body and the breeze shakes her leaves so quietly I have to strain to hear it reminding me that I am in the here and now and everything will be ok.
I love her not just for her beauty. I love her because she is a holder of memories. A reminder that I am lucky to be alive. A reminder that there is joy and beauty and love in the world and if I stand strong like her, I can conquer anything.
