the jacaranda tree
Three weeks is a long time in the world - things change, people come and go, blossoms bloom - and the jacaranda trees all over Sydney cast the city in a hazy delicate purple glow. I first saw jacarandas in Buenos Aires and never got over their majestic beauty. They are big trees, with wide searching branches, laden with baby soft flowers when in bloom, bright and beautiful. There is a jacaranda in the centre of Cartagena, one of the biggest I have ever seen, and seeing the trees here, makes me think of Spain and home and what comes next. Being flung into the unknown again, far away from where I want to be.
A few months ago, when all was turbulent and a shade scary in my world, someone told me something that I will always treasure and carry with me in my heart. Something about a jacaranda tree in Sydney that meant something to him. A week ago I sat under that tree in a hot quadrangle and thought about a lot of things. About how people are in your life but then cross your path without a hello; about how I still feel lost in this world and probably always will; about why I can never settle.
Perhaps this is one of the most beautiful peaceful places I have been in since I arrived in Sydney and maybe it’s only special because someone took the time to tell me about it when I needed it most. I found the tree of life - in more ways than one.