Arriving home after a fortnight away, our streetscape has changed. In our two-week absence, the Cape Lilac tree on the verge outside our house has burst forth in spring blossom. It’s a big tree, well over ten metres tall. It is spectacular in flower. In that moment as we near home, I love it: love its clusters of tiny lilac flowers, its bright green leaves, and the way it dominates the street. I can’t help but admire it. But over the past two dozen years I haven’t always loved it. I have long had a love-hate relationship with this tree.
A Love-Hate Relationship
A Love-Hate Relationship
A Love-Hate Relationship
Arriving home after a fortnight away, our streetscape has changed. In our two-week absence, the Cape Lilac tree on the verge outside our house has burst forth in spring blossom. It’s a big tree, well over ten metres tall. It is spectacular in flower. In that moment as we near home, I love it: love its clusters of tiny lilac flowers, its bright green leaves, and the way it dominates the street. I can’t help but admire it. But over the past two dozen years I haven’t always loved it. I have long had a love-hate relationship with this tree.