Trees and Me

My love affair with trees, particularly as part of a bushland or forest, began a long, long time ago.

When I was a young girl, growing up in Melbourne suburbia, there was a last remnant of bushland and orchard near our home. I remember when I was very little being scared of it as we walked past one day. Some old man lived there… in the forest. It was the stuff of fairy tales – and not the good ones!

One day that man died, the property was sold and a plan was released to build a housing estate.

It was then I first learned the meaning of the wonderful quote…

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” Margaret Mead (anthropologist)

For my parents, along with some other neighbours, started a petition for the council to buy the land and turn it into parkland. They knocked on doors and talked to the local papers. They held meetings. They made a fuss. And eventually they won.

That park became one of my favourite childhood places.

There was a big open space to run, kick a footy or ride a bike. There were a few bent over gum trees to climb… nothing spectacular, but adventurous enough for a non-climber like myself. During the school holidays, the council would turn up with a mobile playground or jumping castle and all the neighbourhood kids would gather. I still fondly recall the laughs and games we had as not-quite-teens, enjoying a last little splash of childhood on that jumping castle.

But my favourite part was the bushland. I spent hours there walking, soaking up the atmosphere of the trees, searching for wildflowers, admiring fairy toadstools with their little raised white spots on deep red caps, lying on the ground amongst native grasses, looking up through the branches at the sky beyond.

As a teenager I walked home that way every day from school, catching a little bit of the bush’s peace that soothed my hormonally charged mind. Tears were shed; kisses were stolen; hearts were broken; graffiti publicised the fact. Once a fire was accidentally lit (not by me, but by some of my friends… oops!)

I came to love trees with a passion. I wanted to do everything I could to protect them. I couldn’t understand why Mum wouldn’t let the-then-14-year-old-me chain myself to a tree in the Daintree. Instead I stuck a NO DAMS sticker on my guitar case. I was proud to associate myself with the term “greenie”… even though back then, that term was mainly reserved for hippies with dreds, drugs, crystals and clothes from Bali.

I absorbed the oxygen and the energy from trees wherever I went. As a young adult, I went for daily walks around the Tan, and watched plays and movies under the spectacular old trees of the Royal Botanic Gardens. Later, hubby and I chose a nearby canopy of oaks as the venue for our wedding.

We travelled the world in search of forests (and mountains, but that’s off topic). Twice I have visited the Amazon rainforest in Peru. Each time it has been like a homecoming.

Through my work, I have always supported the forests. When my company became the first to introduce FSC certified papers into Australia, I (along with my colleagues), spread the word enthusiastically. I became heavily involved with a project that raised over $0.5 million in funds to rehabilitate urban bushland. Later, I worked with managers and suppliers to replace an entire portfolio of paper products with forest friendly recycled and forest certified grades. It may seem weird that someone so devoted to forests should work in the paper industry… but I am proud of my achievements – I stood by my beliefs and ensured that recycled and forest certified papers became a viable choice… Now I use the papers I selected and created. That feels pretty good actually!

Today, the forest is my home. Being in the forest has become part of my psyche.

It is not easy living among trees. Each blistering hot summer day has you shaking to your core… each blustery winter’s eve has you lying awake in fear. But awakening to the sound of the kookaburras and the wind in the leaves is a feeling that cannot be described. Looking out of your bedroom window at an endless sea of green, often bathed in a strange fog, or in dappled sunlight, takes your breath away.

I head out into my little forest on the weekends, to pull weeds and encourage the native plants. The munchkin tells me he’s “gathering wheat” as we load the broom, ivy, blackberry and thistles into his “bakery”. Sometimes my little Landcare-group-of-one does some tree planting (thanks to the awesome guys at the Knox Environment Society).

My walks in the magnificent temperate rainforests of the nearby Dandenong Ranges keep my head in check and my life in balance. Often I see a bounding wallaby or hear a lyrebird’s call. The tall mountain ash remind me that if you only reach for the sky, anything is possible…

I still lie on the ground (or a perfectly placed picnic table) and look up at the sky through those tall, tall trees.

My Mum now takes the munchkin to play on the playground of that park she helped saved all those years ago. He climbs the same trees the bro and I used to climb.

People still connect with nature. Small groups still help change the world.

And guess what? Kids still love to climb trees…

Let them!

This post was written for our special National Tree Day Story Starter Challenge. The topic was “When I was a child…” and “Tree”. If you have a favourite childhood tree story, please feel free to link it up below or send to me at cath[at]leafjournals.com to post in our Your Stories section. Our Linky will be up for a month, so you have plenty of time…

Next week’s Story Starter Challenge has been taken from the Girl Talk (Junior) Story Starters. The cards selected were “The best surprise…” and “School”.

Share your Story Starter Challenge posts here…