Trees fascinate me, and I love them all.
This is an ancient olive tree, and I bet it could tell a few stories…
Today, I need to go for a walk, but a virtual one, down memory lane…
Counting dust particles in a sunbeam Order made visible Lack of concentration, the numbers slip Look again, is the dust really there? Invisible fingers touch the air Searching the universe for the new, the unknown Inside the dark space where stars are born On into infinity, something is out there Numbered by the Galaxies we spin in… ©AnitaDawes2022
On silent wings they pass by The ancient Gods of old The scar runs deep That shut their hearts To the prayers of man Harpies perch On black wings A sound of broken glass Echoes behind Do not call our names You need new heroes New Gods, we are no more… ©AnitaDawes2022
Anita’s poem today coincides with two incidents that happened yesterday…
A very large wood pigeon decided to fly at our window at full speed. The noise when he hit the glass was deafening; I thought someone had kicked a football at us! After recovering, the bird flew away, so no harm was done.
Later, we went outside to find that the local family of thrushes had been busy digging in my bonsai pots, scattering soil all over the yard! Luckily, no harm to the trees, but I wish they wouldn’t do it…
I thought Thursday would be an ordinary day, it began ordinarily enough.
I ploughed through the daily chores, wondering all the while what the day would bring. If the weather held, I wanted to tackle an overgrown flower bed that had been tormenting me long enough.
The writing desk hadn’t seen much of me lately, so a lot to catch up there too. All in all, there was a very pleasant sense of anticipation going on.
The sun was determined to make a show of it, so I escaped from the house to check on my precious seedlings, wondering if my tiny tomatoes would be encouraged to grow today.
What day it really was, gradually filtered through from the back of my mind, and all thoughts of my previous plans faded away. Celebrations for the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee had already began and the traditional flypast was due just after lunch. I do love a little tradition and seeing the Red Arrows always goes down well.
I have always felt an affinity with her Majesty. We were both born in May and love horses. I think she shares my wicked sense of humour and also the patience of a saint. At 96, she still has that twinkle in her eye when she smiles.
While I was watching the proceedings surrounding Bucking Palace, a weird looking tree right outside the Palace gates caught my eye. I didn’t recall it being there before and it looked odd, not having much luck of looking like a proper tree, so I was curious as to its purpose.
A little later, they began to talk about it, and I learned that this 21m tree is an important part of the Jubilee celebrations, called The Tree of Trees. A sculpture designed by British designer Thomas Heathwick, to hold 350 native British saplings to commemorate the Queen’s Green Canopy initiative, in which over a million trees have been planted. These saplings are due to be planted around the country as a living part of the Jubilee.
Seeing this incredible tree and knowing its purpose, made the day even more special for me…
Brian VF Chinese quince May 14, 2022 2 Minutes
I bought this tree on eBay in 2006, and it is spent some time in the ground, had a few chops, and a few different fronts. But it is finally started to settle into its shape, and I decided to put it in our club’s annual show this year.
I have been bored with some of the trees lately, and less than inspired, so I thought it would be good to try to put a tree or two in the show that have never been shown before. A couple reasons, first, it adds some variety to the show. Second, it pushes me to advance different trees to a higher level. This year, the quince and the Stewartia will be making their debut appearances in a show.
Click HERE to read the rest of this lovely post from Brian at Nebari Bonsai…
Don’t Run I run around the world Searching for something that’s behind, tapping me on the shoulder the faster I run the harder they tap the wind whispers turn around it’s all there, waiting for you I stop, I turn, I stare Into the mirror I hear, don’t run… ©AnitaDawes2022