Thinking about trees

Reading Suena Lindo: 404 árbol not found got me thinking about the trees around me. I've lived in the same neighbourhood all my life and I still walk along the same familiar blocks. When I take Yaco out for a walk, I enjoy walking along the more residential streets, walk past my old kinder and primary school, taking in the huge gardens crowded with flowers: geraniums, pansies, azaleas, lavander, impatiens, and huge fuchsia bougainvilleas that climb up walls or hang from balconies.

Along the way there are numerous trees and bushes; the jasmines with their thin, pink petals and and also the gardenia kind - their perfume have always given me a sense of happiness - the gorgeous lilac flowers, and many incredibly tall trees that when in bloom, at the beginning of Summer, they're loaded with little yellow flowers .

All these gardens and all these trees bring me some of the happiest childhood memories.

It's early September and in Buenos Aires, we're enjoying an early spring. Very soon the jacarandas will be loaded with their little lilac flowers and by November the sweet scent of the linden trees, with their little, white flowers, will surround us once more .


I like to think that as much as these trees and plants are a part of my life, of my memories and my past, that I'm also part of them, and that, for instance, the big, old ombu tree that used to be next to the roller hockey rink at the Club Ciudad de Buenos Aires had engraved in its growth rings all those times my friends and I sat on its roots chatting away or climbed up its branches.

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