Monday, 16 November 2009

Memories in a tree

I love this little tree. It is a winter-flowering cherry (Prunus Subhirtella Autumnalis) which was one of the first trees we planted when we moved here nearly 6 years ago. Then it was tiny, quite ungainly in the way its branches fell. Now it is filling out and becoming more graceful. I love it for the beautiful autumn colour, and the anticipation of the starry white flowers adorning the bare branches in winter. Most of all, though, I love it for the memories it represents - we had a much larger version of this tree outside the front of our house in S.W. and it was a special place for the girls when they were very young - almost magical. They used to hold tea parties for their dolls and themselves under its shelter and it was a joy to look at with it's firey leaves in autumn and abundant blossom in winter. When we sold the house to move here, the purchasers were concerned about the tree's roots getting into the drains and they cut "our" beautiful tree down.
So the young tree in the photo above is the repository for me of all those memories and will, I hope, go on to make its own memories. The girls are too old now to hold dolls' tea parties, and I. is only really interested in trees if he can climb them, but I hope that one day its branches will be shading the patio where we will be eating our meals outside, and maybe one far-off day, when the tree is really quite big and old, my grand-children might hold dolls' tea-parties under its shelter.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Gillian! I just discovered you and your beautiful blog after reading your comment over at are so happy. Your words perfectly expressed what I've been feeling and observing lately. We are in the middle of the college search with our oldest and I have been so aware of the passing of time and the footprint that my girl has left all around our home and in our hearts. There have been many moments here, like the one you describe above...looking and remembering and loving and dreaming. Such a poignant and precious gift—these moments. Thanks so much for sharing this.—alison