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« Here we go | Home | Amazing America »

Tommy and the Lilac Tree

Column May 2008 Thursday 15 May 2008 It is the month of May, spring has sprung, and our lilac tree is in full bloom. In amazement I look at the beautifully colored blossoms, as I had not expected this much pride and glory. Admittedly, the rest of the tree isn’t much of anything and, to be honest, it hasn’t been for years.

All that time I’ve said that the tree should be cut down and that a lilac tree isn’t even supposed to be a tree but a bush. However, that’s not true, Wikipedia taught me. A lilac can indeed be a tree. There are lilac trees that reach 23 feet in height, although ours is only about 13 feet. Planted by the former homeowner in a shady spot, it grows in the direction of the sun, wanting to soak up as many as possible of its rays. Year after year, the lilac tree blooms. In the warm summer it is a natural umbrella while in the winter its branches hold lard balls and peanuts in mesh. Birds, of course, love that tree and so do cats. As a matter of fact, it likely will be cat nails that in the end will kill the little tree because it is often used as a scratch pole by the cats. For years, the tree hasn’t done very well and last year I wanted to make the final decision for I couldn’t watch this any longer. The tree was old and tired; you could see that right away. “Look at the blossoms,” I said. They were pale. Cat nails largely destroyed the bark and branches, especially since Tommy had moved in next door. It was clear; our little tree had had it with life, or so it seemed. If only I could know what the tree itself would want, the ax or … not quite yet? Supposedly, there are people who converse with trees, but I’ve never done that but I do always talk to cats. I am a cat conversationalist and most of the time the cats respond and we hold entire discussions. I must admit that there isn’t much depth to our talks but it is fun. I can’t quite see myself talking to trees, but last year I would have done so had it provided me with the answer to the piercing question what the tree itself wanted with its life. Was life still worth living or should it be ended? Wouldn’t it be great if it had answered? Yes, I know, it wouldn’t be much a problem to anyone else, who would have taken the saw and after a day of work would have declared it a job well done, but that’s not how things work with me. I’m even having trouble discarding a small plant as long as it still shows a few signs of life. I don’t have a green thumb at all and only low-maintenance plants like a Sanseveria have a chance at survival in my care. So last year I stood at the lilac tree, which had just finished blooming, and wondered what should be done. I asked my sons, but they left the decision to me and only said that if the tree had to go they wanted to be present since they had grown up with it and the tree was part of their lives. To start, it was pruned but soon after I saw little buds appear and, of course, the tree stayed for how can you cut down a tree that is showing new life? Besides, there was Tommy….

Tommy is our neighbor’s cat, which they had got from the pound last year. It was striking to see how fearful Tommy was. He and a few other cats had been removed from the home of a woman who had kept them in tote bags and guinea pig cages. At the pound they had lived together in a kennel, which had worked out well, but when Tommy found a loving home with the neighbors he didn’t quite understand what to do there because there were no other cats, just people and he wasn’t too thrilled with them. Four weeks after his arrival Tommy got away, presumably in search of other cats. No one expected to ever see the bashful little animal again, but a miracle came to pass when Tommy returned and gradually became less fearful. He even became affectionate and now loves attention. He likes to lie in the sun on the flat roof of the neighbor’s house, but as soon as he sees one of us, or one of our cats, he climbs down via the lilac tree. Attention is great fun!



It is May, spring has sprung, and with Tommy at my side I look in amazement at the lilac tree and its beautifully colored blossoms. It hasn’t had such glorious shades in years. “What do we do with this tree, Tommy?” I ask, and, as usual, Tommy says “mèkmèk”, a rather useless response. But I don’t need an answer, because, although the tree and I don’t really talk, it does tell me a thing or two about its condition. The trunk may not look like much, the branches may be puny, but the blossoms are gloriously plentiful and perhaps that means that the tree is vital enough to last another year. “Don’t you think, Tommy?” “Mèkmèk.” Then, suddenly, a strange cat appears on Tommy’s flat roof and Tommy quickly shoots up the lilac tree to defend his territory. I figure that there is another reason for the tree to stay. Not only to give itself another chance, but also nature around it. Not only because of us but also, just a little bit, because of Tommy. It appears that the tree nods in agreement, but it could be just the wind moving its blossoms.



Text: Dini Commandeur, Translation Maria O’Neill


 

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