Eucalyptus Marri (Red Gum)
One
summer afternoon we stopped under the shade
of a huge Redgum. Its blackened trunk about six feet through and the first branch started over forty
feet up.
Staring
up at the blue sky through the canopy I
became aware of a sense of timeless calm. With its
feet anchored deep in the gravel country and trunks
spanning over fifty feet.
There
in the shade I felt a very faint, gentle breeze,
even though the surrounding air was very still.
As I opened the gate and glanced back it felt as though
something was calling. This
was the first time I became aware of the different
voices and energy of Australian trees.
On reflection
some of my earliest memories of trees were
those around home. The five Boobiala trees that actually
appeared to be one large one that was a playground. The
almond tree that was shelter for old Laddie the collie,
the lemon tree that one little boy hid under when
he saw his first aeroplane fly over (things have
changed a bit since then in relation to flying things)
and of course the flood gums that shaded the
gully on summer afternoons.
Each
type of tree talks differently. A gnarled old
Redgum that has seen many fires has a voice sounding
like Paul Robeson. Deep, strong and
inspiring.
A sense of timelessness from seeing so many
seasons, Winter storms, long Summers and the
seasons between.Its distinctive nuts forming a multi coloured carpet around
its base, waiting for a hot forest fire to germinate
the next generation. The unique scent is strongest
on hot summer days when insects lazily drone
around the tree.
Soft
outside bark crushes underfoot and releases
a musty smelling dust. The Redgum seems to
have an air of aged wisdom that feels somehow
solid
and secure.
Flood gums on the other hand are a gentler tree
with its roots in the soft damp soil on gully and river
banks and the flood plains. Their softer bark a home
for the incessant Cicadas in summer and for nesting
birds for their young. The waters lap around their bases as though nourishing
them in anticipation of the summer.
Maybe
having spent so many hot summer days
in the shade of one particular Flood-gum has created
an affinity with their spreading drooping branches.
Even driving around the city I seem to notice
them more than any other tree and it brings back
peaceful carefree feelings even in the middle of
a high paced day.
The
chorus that sings in the shade of the Sheoaks
is so calming and inspiring. The Sheoak is the
master story teller. Where they grow is an
energy
that calls. It seems when Summer is at its hottest
that the coolest piece of the countryside is found
in a clump of Sheoaks.
Even
the bush-flies seem to know that here is a
sacred place that they are not welcome in.
Sheoaks
seem to sing a song of the stars at night as though
there is a conversation with the universe.
SheOaks
Perhaps
this is finally being acknowledged by those
in positions responsible for the planning of our cities
and towns.
There
is a different feeling around different trees.
A different energy. To drive through a suburb devoid
of trees is like entering a lifeless place.
I
admire the drive in to Perth from the domestic
airport terminal with the landscaping on the
highway from Belmont, across the causeway
and
down Riverside Drive. Central to all of the landscaping
are large well established trees, natives
like Kangaroo Paws and flowering scrub
bushes.
It
seems that trees have always formed a backdrop
to whatever is happening in life.
Trees
supply the oxygen we breathe, shade and
an environment for so much insect and bird life. They
have been a source of both warmth and
cooling
for mankind, housing, transport and for many
objects both of beauty and destruction. They also
have provided inspiration for poets, authors, artists
and composers as well as places of solace and
repose.
One
of the things the twentieth century will be remembered
for, both its destruction and reintroduction
of trees. It really is only in living in such
close quarters with so many other people and so
few trees that I recognise just how important these
gentle giants are to our well being (physically,mentally, emotionally and spiritually) and indeed our survival
as a species.
For
me the idea of the Swiss, who have gone back
to building their villages and suburbs to fit in with
introduced forests and bushland rather than the
other way round has a lot of merit.
The
legends of the early days of colonial Australia on both
sides of the law had a special affinity with trees,
even the recently updated “jolly swagman” sat
under the shade of a tree.
Recent
studies have shown that to hug a tree isn't as silly as it may first sound. For me though right
now it would be nice to find a large Redgum to sit
under and watch the world go by for a while.
Eucalyptus Marri
Gum (honky) nut
19th
October 1997
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