Tree Goes

The nasty Jacaranda has been looped.

The tree had stood there for years.

Flowered.

Dropped the flowers to carpet the grass.

Don't stand on the flowers at the wrong angle when wet. You'll end on your behind on the grass.

With the coming of the flowers you have to deal with Hay Fever. Some people believe gastric comes at the same time as them.

The growing on the leaves cause more mess.

They fall.

The Jacaranda looks beautiful when in bloom. But the place for them is out in the country where the root system has room to spread. To find moisture to grow. Town grown Jacaranda stretch the root system to reach the sewerage pipes. The roots clog them. Come to the surface to cause trouble in the lawn.

Lifts the concrete.

Cracks it.

Men move in with chainsaws.

Rain hinders their work. Every time a shower arrives engines are silenced.

Birds no longer have a place to roost.

No more squawking parrots.

No more nectar of flower to make them drunk.

Best of all, no sneezing.

No headaches.

No clogged sinuses.

The worry of flying limbs in the next wild storm, gone.

I have a view. The branches of the tree doesn't block the view from my bedroom window.

Watching the tree fall brought back a past memory.

We lived in a caravan beneath the branches of a Jacaranda. With the revival of the memory came another of a doge called, Rover.

Rover was an escapee. He was always on the run. A fence didn't stop him. Until the fateful day.

“Fleas. That mongrel dog has fleas,” yelled Dad. Rover had been sleeping beneath our caravan. The fleas had multiplied in the dirt to become a nuisance.

Rover had to go.

“I'll teach him to stay at home,” said Dad, setting his plan into action. He grabbed my stone roller.

“Rover. Come here, Rover,” Dad called, to entice Rover to come to him to claim a piece of meat.

Poor Rover. He'd been outsmarted.

The string was tied to his tail.

Dad chased him to go home. He went.

The faster he ran. The more noise the stone roller made. Especially when he used the shortest route home along the railway track.

The can bounced on the blue metal.

Rover was travelling fast when he reached home.

He cleared the fence.

Raced beneath the house.

The owner of Rover had to dive out of the way.

Rover raced into the bathroom to hide.

Rover never returned.

The fleas were exterminated.

I had to wait for another empty Milo tin to make a new stone roller.

This is a memory from way back when. At a time when I was young and we lived in a caravan to be able to follow my father to his next place of work. Being in the railway we moved around a lot. Now days, the jobs no longer exist. No wonder too many people don't have work.