They are standing like three red-dressed guardians posted along the ditch separating my front yard from the fields. Mission Completed making me as incredibly happy as I am proud!
My body can still sense the feeling of finding the footing climbing up the one where the tree house was when I was a young girl. And I can hear the characteristic sound of the one closest the bakery cottage stretching it’s branch over the tin roof, itching it. And oh the feeling of hanging wet laundry in the summer afternoon on the clothes line connecting the six mountain ashes. Those my grandfather planted when my mother was a little girl.
As you know by now, my relationship with trees is special. The loss of a tree affects me mentally as well as physically. Whenever I have to cut out a tree I have to prepare. Often for years.
My grandfathers big mountain ashes has guarded my place for about 90 years. Looking after my grandparents, my mother and her siblings, me, my sister and cousins, and then my own family. Trouble & Trouble’s feet and hands know the tress as well as mine does.
But mountain ashes don’t live forever, their life span is pretty short. I’ve known for twenty years their time would come and I’ve dreaded it. When did I take out the first one, the one itching the baker’s cottage roof? I don’t know, maybe 2010? Some years later the second one. Then the third. Last summer there where three left and they didn’t look pretty. And I came to the decision to take them all. It was on the Swedish National Day June 6. That’s one way to celebrate it.
The hole the loss of those trees created in my visual atmosphere was immense. My eyes lost its fixing point to the west. My front yard tipped over to the east. My soul was a void.
I greeted the sun which now reached the west wall of my house giving me the spot for sun bathing this place never had. And the front yard was sunny all through the evening, that’s kind of nice! I adjusted to thinking this new scene was a good thing.
Then suddenly, photos showing up of how it used to be and from nowhere I bursted out in tears! So, apparently I wasn’t doing as well as I thought…
My mind started searching for a solution for my inner and outer loss. I came up with an idea. But, as often when it comes to my ideas, would it even be possible?
I felt very strongly I needed to replace my mountain ashes. But I still wanted the sun. So, it had to be trees which wouldn’t grow too tall.
To plant new trees, consequently you would have to take out the old mountain ash stumps and roots. This is where the “would it even be possible?” entered the story. Because they were huge. And six of them.
I called my second cousin Roland. He is the one to call on impossible questions. Of course, he said! He lives in the village and the day before Midsummers he and my neighbor Erik came with their huge machines - yeah, they are the kind of men equipped with that kind of tools. In a couple of hours the roots were gone and my ditch and parts of the lawn looking like a crater.
During the winter already I had started my research for what kind of new greenery I would add to my life. I was desiring something blossoming like crazy in the early summer! Like cherry trees… But would it work on latitude 64°?
Well it turns out that sweet cherry don’t like it this far to the north of course, but some sour cherry do. And my choice fell on Prunus Sargentii. It’s a tree which says to be overloaded with pink blossoms in June and that’s what I am dreaming of!
Now the plan was to have the trees planted the week after Midsummer so that I could start enjoying them this summer already. That didn’t happen though. In short, the company that took on the job didn’t deliver. Yeah, those things always sucks.
Some weeks ago, finally, it happened though. Taking photos of trees rising is so much more fun than trees falling! To watch the three trees taking their posts along my ditch was magical! There they were, looking as natural as I had pictured them. Starting their job balancing my front yard and guarding me, welcoming the lost birds, making my eyes happy and my soul sing!
Most things I do here at my place at the end of the road, I do for the future. I take care of things the best way I can so they will be here for my sons and presumptive grandchildren if they so wish.
No comments:
Post a Comment