This week I saw a tree that reminded me of one that I first saw 36 years ago with my family. We visited the Major Oak tree in Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire. It was major. It was MASSIVE! Especially for my freshly NHS spectacled 5yr old eyes (of which my daughter today said when she saw a photo of me, “aww, you look cute mumma” – oh how I wish she had been in my class at school). Anyway, I remember being in awe and wonder and even at this young age was truly humbled by this magnificent natural beast, my memory decided to bank that one. A few days later, my parents shared the news of a fire, at the Major Oak. What!?!?! I remember feeling really sad, how could anyone want to hurt a tree, who had done nothing but good for people, especially Robin Hood, as legend would say.

Maybe this is when my love of trees began. The beautiful Major.

Growing up trees have been significant at various times in my life.

I remember meeting a new next-door-neighbour-but-one under the Willow tree at the top of the street. We had recently moved house and I had nits for the ‘umpteenth time’ and was told by my mum to stay under the tree and not go any further for fear of contaminating newly found neighbours, imagine!

School holidays were spent with the neighbourhood kids, climbing and falling out of a tree into the ‘telephone exchange’ – an out of bounds building with a vast unused grassy side bank. Feeling daring, we used to drop down from the tree’s branches and then run, or roll, as fast as we could down the grassy slopes and out through a hole in the fence. Such fun!

During high school, I scratched my initials and those of the young trainee PE teacher inside a love heart on a tree at Newmillerdam, and for years after was worried that my peers from school would see my declaration of love (that obviously was only alive in my teenage head, and growing heart).

And last but not least, the mango tree in the backyard was pretty special. I first saw it when I was living in an apartment and dating my now-husband. It died suddenly a few years ago after many seasons of producing heaps and heaps (and heaps!) of sweet juicy fruit. “The best mango tree in Sydney” one gardener declared. It was extra special to me because I loved the sweet sentiment of the ‘Mango Tree’ song by Angus and Julia Stone. It also told me that dreams can come true:

‘Wish I had a mango tree. In my backyard. With you standing next to me.’

And that’s as slushy as I get, apart from my undying love of stripes and trees. Until next time.

Stripes and trees x

Stripes look perfect,

Bonding a to b.

Strong and certain,

Orderly.

Confirming rules,

Predictable,

Providing comfort when the world is a spiral.

Mesmerising,

Beautiful,

A movement so true.

A sound so pure and constant, a whisper.

Contrast is welcomed,

And so is a ruler,

As stripes dance in spaces with rhythm.

Up or down, side to side,

Around a column or over.

Changing course and taking an angle,

Widening or narrowing as suits.

Stripes adapt, stripes evolve,

Stripes belong.

Stripes are certain, stripes are strong,

Stripes are where I belong.

Stripes and trees x

Stripy shadows from the landing

When I was a kid I used to spend a long time sitting at the top of the stairs on the landing, somewhere between the world of growing up and being a grown up. Sometimes I’d take some colouring in books, or a knitting nancy, as an activity to do whilst quietly listening to my parents talk to each other, or their friends, or some random grown up like the financial adviser. Curiosity for this grown up world was rife.

Yesterday, as a grown up I was feeling curious and looked inside my daughter’s spy notebook (well, who could resist that?) She, along with her sidekick (little bro), has recently started a new hobby of ‘spying on parents’. My curiosity of her led me to discover her curiosity of me. She’s on the landing (well, metaphorically)!

The same day we also hosted a party for the her little brother. Even calling him ‘little’ brother indicates how we like them to stay younger for longer. Yet their desire is to grow up:

‘when I grow up I will be as tall as dadda’, ‘when I grow up…when I grow up’ and we in return say ‘when I was younger…’.

If only the ability to swap places, as in the Freaky Friday movie, was real! I’d be up for it.

And as I think of my children and their spying of me (I’m really quite boring, what must they think?), it reminds me to think of my own parents because I often forget that I am still a child too. However I think they are also on the landing, observing how we are parenting, listening to our conversations with our friends, trying to keep up with the current trends that were actually real first time trends back in the day, or feeling proud (I hope) of who we have become.

We recently renovated and now have stairs and a landing (see photo). I’m so happy to have a landing, it’s one of my favourite places in the house and now I know why. It seems there are lots of people on the landing. My family near and far. I built it for us.

Stripes and trees x