The Bee Gees recorded the song First of May in 1969. Now, I would like to be able to tell you that the song has a special meaning or message but turns out it was named after the date on which Barry’s dog was born. The song title may be a disappointment, but the words are oh so nostalgic:

When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall,

We used to love while others used to play.

Don’t ask me why, but time has passed us by,

Some one else moved in from far away.

And in this lies the magic of their songs. I bet you a lollypop that you did not just read the words above, you sang them in your mind. Because the song title and meaning turned out to be too trivial, I turned my mind to other songs about trees. I need to find a song so profound, that it can do justice to yet another of those big trees that fell in the forest. With so many to choose from, I decided on “Tie a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree”, in memory of the other OKE tree: Jeremy Mansfield. Whenever his name comes up, it always takes me back to the hours I spent on the N1 travelling to work. Come December every year, Jeremy and his co-hosts used to do the Christmas Wishlist. Looking around at drivers of other cars stuck in traffic, one could tell exactly who was listening to Jeremy, because they would all be wiping tears from their cheeks. Many have tried to follow, some have tried to rival, but no one could emulate him. His magnificence came from his soul. But this I know, today Jeremy is having a cold one with that other Scatterling of Africa, who also sadly passed from cancer. Few people could capture our spirit of Ubuntu, the way these two men did. Our world is a better place, because of them.

So then, what made me start of to think about Christmas trees that were once small? We had two very big yellow wood trees in our garden in Gauteng. I loved those trees; I had an extraordinary resonance with them. My neighbours around me did not always feel the same about the trees, and at times I had to metaphorically chain myself to them, to stop them being cut down. They were a very natural way of closing in our space. Because of their size, we did not need curtains at the windows for privacy. I would go to sleep at night looking through my un-curtained windows, at lightning battling it out in the sky. I would wake up to birds chatting about who caught the biggest worm, and when the wind stirred the branches, the wind chimes would gently toll away. If only we could bring the trees with us down to our mountain. The only remedy open to me was, to bring some of their “babies” down. And so, as you will know from previous writings, I got 20 saplings growing and brought them down. I am left with 13 of them. A few did not make it, sometimes baby trees also fall in the forest. No one else may have noticed their little plops as they fell, but I did. We have not planted these young ones on the mountain yet. They have yet to get a bit stronger before they can go tell it on a mountain. But even small trees can have big aspirations. With spring in the air, 3 of the little trees have made little side shoots. They fancy themselves big boys/girls now, having made branches! I look at my tree babies, and I recall that my two giants were also once small when we first made them part of the family. There is hope for my babies.

One thing the Cape never seems to have a shortage of, is wind. Oh, my, the wind can blow here. The lesson in it is: make a windy day your laundry day. Washing can take all day to dry in the sun, but hang it out in the wind, and it is dry with in an hour. On the downside, Beautiful Beaumont has been very busy spraying this year’s crop with “stuff” that also blows in the wind. Some mornings I wake up with a blocked nose, other mornings with a runny nose, depending on what is being sprayed and the wind direction. I have always been a believer of following life’s natural rhythms. I would go to bed once it was dark and wake up with the sun. This proved to be a bit of a challenge in the Cape winter, with it getting and staying dark here for much longer. But spring has brought some normality, and I am back to waking up with the birds.

Our family has a way of naming everything: from cars to fish. Some of the really big rocks on our mountain have been named. The biggest one being Peter. Yes, he is named after the biblical Petros, meaning rock. That Peter was the foundation of the church. And in true faith, we build our house upon our own rock. We step outside in the mornings, and while Colin takes his morning photo (he takes a photo every morning around the same time. Yup. He is one of those) I inspect my tree nursery and make sure they are all still upright and that the wind had not blown them over. I have 13 baby trees to name. So far, I have Johnny (one side shoot), Jeremy (a little taller, but also one side shoot) and Elizabeth (with 2 side shoots, She was Elizabeth II, after all.) Perhaps the time has come to name some of the others. I could name the two at the entrance Nelson and Desmond. They can become the gate keepers. I can plant a Phillip beside Elizabeth. She would like that. David Bowie and Freddy Mercury can feel the pressure in the courtyard. Beethoven can go in a windy corner with Johann Strauss. I will keep a place for Imtiaz Sooliman.

They may only be small trees now, but one day, they will be part of a forest. And everyone knows that even the forest notices when a big tree falls. Besides, trees are important. To quote my final tree song, in this case: I was born under a wandering star. “When I get to heaven tie me to a tree. Or I’ll begin to roam.” I hope that when our time comes, we can name the final 2 trees Colin & Sjarlene. We may not be big trees, but we will be in good company.