Tree planting ceremonies are often held to commemorate a special occasion. This can be a wedding, a death, the birth of a baby or any such special moment you can imagine. This moment usually comes with either a bit of fanfare or dignity. Trees symbolize life, growth, wisdom, and prosperity. It has spiritual meaning too, such as physical and spiritual nourishment, transformation and liberation, union, and fertility. The trunk symbolizes masculinity with the branches and leaves being feminine, Google tells me.

Where we used to live in Pretoria, we had 2 very large Yellow Wood trees. What I loved most about our Pretoria home, were these 2 trees. I upset my fair share of neighbours over the years, with my absolute refusal for these trees to be trimmed or removed. Yellow Wood trees, incidentally, are highly protected, and is our national tree – so fortunately I had the law on my side. Of all the possible mementos I could bring with me, I opted for 20 little saplings. For the past 8 months, I have been carefully nursing these precious little trees, hoping that I could get them sturdy enough to plant and most important of all, that they would aclimatise to this climate. But, as you know by now, things seldom go the way Colin and I plan. Once we had our Yellow Wood nursery established, we last minute added some of “Ruth’s Avos”. Along with my Yellow Woods, I also wanted to remember the other special trees, grown from seed from a very special friend.  Avocado trees can take up to 13 years to bear fruit. That is OK. I can wait.  Apparently, they can grow indoors in containers.

As we made our way down to the Cape, we stayed over at a various guest houses. Clearly our car tickled a few fancies. At one guest house, the host spotted our “green” car, and promptly sent us off with 2 Coral Trees. The next one contributed a Karoo succulent. Our Botrivier community saw us coming, and so we have quite a collection of trees and other plants in our balcony nursery. Ruth’s Avo’s were by now quite pot bound and needed space to spread their roots. Also, the wind here was burning the leaves and the trees were not doing well. And so: Baby Av, Baby O, Baby Ca and Baby Do (as in Avocado) got themselves loaded up into the car boot. They have now been replanted into Betty’s Bay soil and have been placed in a sheltered area on the mountain to settle down. Once we know that they look established and happy, the Yellow Woods will make their way over. All this however, resulted in a Health & Safety Toolbox Talk that friendly builder and his crew were not expecting. Something along the lines of: If you want to see the sun rise tomorrow, you better not step on THE WIFE’s trees. Friendly builder has offered to cordon off an area with danger tape where my baby trees can be safe. I like a man with a plan. I know my little trees will be looked after.

Planting our 4 Avo trees should have been a memorable moment. The reality however was far from it. The temporary entrance to the plot can be quite muddy when it rains. Sunday was a rainy day when we set off to go planting. (Do not judge! The weatherman said it would be dry.) First challenge was, getting up the very wet and muddy hill. One step forward took us sliding back 2 steps. Hands that were meant to carry trees, pots, and a spade, became essential in stabilizing ourselves going up. Once we negotiated the best route up, I safely stayed at the top and navigated Colin up and down the slippery slope so he could safely deliver “my preciouses”. Long story short, the two of us resembled pilgrims from the Dead Sea, covered in mud. Dead Sea mud is supposed to have healing qualities, such as restoring moisture, soothing dry skin, and anti-aging. Betty’s Bay mud does none of that. Betty’s Bay mud gets into your shoes, under your nails, sticks to your trousers and came close to being exhibit A in the divorce court. All our up and downing created a mini mud slide, and so before we left, Colin had to reconstruct as much of the bridge as he could. No point in upsetting the Bye-the-Byes. Or the builder. Or the bulldozer… Fortunately, once again, Colin had his wife to supervise, despite his moans of tummy muscles and twig-like arms being strained.

At the same time, I am finding out about plants that can act as a fire retardant. Everyone knows about the dreadful fires that are a constant threat in this area. We would like to keep the bulk of the ground as close to nature as we can, staying well away from invasive plants. (The only exception being my special trees.) When it comes to the Avo trees, I guess it will become a topic for negotiation with the baboons closer to the time. Then there is also the very big rock, which Colin is now trying to design into the house, as it is becoming quite clear that it is anchored to the earth’s core, it is so huge. Removing it, may send the earth into an entirely different orbit, somewhere on the heels of Pluto. Very rustic and natural, indeed. Keeping things natural may well extend into the lounge.

After all that digging, there are a couple of rather large mounds of soil on the plot. Some of the soil came home with us, so I could top up the other plants with Cape soil. No time like the present to wean them off Gauteng soil. Now, in a small community like ours, there are no secrets. We were observed carting little trees away, we were observed returning home with a crate of lovely, rich, dark soil. Oh! What nice soil you have, they all hinted. We could really do with some of that. Where did you get it? Yes, you guessed it. Colin’s daily trip to the BUILDING SITE (I can finally call it that now!) includes filling the crate up with soil to share. Turns out Botrivier has many plants that need to be re-potted.

There is however one living creature that will not be happy at being relocated. Our Domino is so happy in Botrivier. He truly is one very fat, healthy, and content little cat. Small town living suits him. There is no shortage of organic snacks (his quota of mice and moles) or treats given to him at the many houses he visits. He is the town darling, with his 3 legs and pink nose. I can foretell that relocating him is going to be difficult. We will be taking him from his happy place. But then, we are his “pawrents” and he must go with us. But, we know, it will be very difficult for him to have to adjust again. No amount of soil or ceremony will make it any easier for him.  Soon enough he will realise: Grow where you are planted.