Green Limbs

The Signal and the Fire

A Green Marriage

The Tree and Flowers

Illawarra Flame: A Tree on Fire

Illawarra Flame: A Tree on Fire 20-12-07

The Illawarra Flame beyond my window has lost much of its flowers.

The fallen bright red petals rest like confetti on a sidewalk surrounding its bride. Maybe, this fall of flowers signals the time, the moment, the period and passing of some kind of marriage.

I cannot help but think that there is more to this tree than meets the eye. And I wonder if this tree has not designed the fall of its confetti in this way to attract something, or someone, bird, insect or other, to increase the likelihood of its pollination and thus its fertility?

The bright red petals she wears like lipstick, or are these red petals below and remaining her red blouse she wears to gain attention, arousal and attraction?

Her trunk and leafy body is green, and her petals, like painted finger-nails (bright red) tell us she is not to be so easily dismissed. She is on fire.

I wonder what the platanus men that surround her think? They have nothing but their coloured bark to compare, and their leafy eyes look on.

And periodically, when a breeze of wind allows it, their leafy torso their branches, arms and extended hands reach out, they touch and momentarily as lovers, they embrace.

White-tailed Black Cockatoos 13th December 2007

Yesterday, a feral cat, a two toned grey and white, moved near and beneath the orange jasmine (Murraya paniculata) hedge.

I also saw a magpie and wattle bird, on tha ground and in the branches of the platanus. Then high and acrobatic came a flock of white-tailed black cockatoo calling. For the last fortnight they had been present, and seemed to have moved in when the rains set in, but that is most likely just a co-incidence.

High in the pines they are feasting and jumping, tree to tree, and therein singing their mournful melodies to all who might hear them.

Tehran Plane: The Chenar

Tehran Plane by Siamak D. Ahi

In 1881, Ms. Dieulafoy was much impressed by a colossal, odd-looking Oriental Plane in “Tajreesh” masque in northern Tehran.Its circumference reached “nearly fifteen meter”, shaded the activities of a great many people. Including a primary school master and his classes, and a Ghahve-chi (tea-shop keeper) who had installed his Samavar and his paraphernalia inside the hollow trunk in tree base.H.Rawlinson said that in “Tajreesh”, … he measured a great Chenar which had a girth of 108 feet at 5 feet from the ground.

http://chenarestan.blogspot.com/2005/07/chenar-e-emamzadeh-saleh.html

Around A Greek Plane Tree

September 2004 by Terje Raa

During the summer, the Greek island of Kos is invaded by thousands of young people. In one particular place, we all feel young - that's under the 2400-year-old plane tree of Hippocrates in the heart of Kos Town.

When the wind is whispering through the fragile old branches, it's like hearing the whisper of time, telling the tale of Hippocrates, the father of medical science, who walked here teaching his students long before the Christian era began. Whether this tree is the original or not, is open to dispute; some say it is 600 years old at most. Anyhow, it's old for sure and turns yellow early, much to the delight of little kittens, busy chasing the plane leaves that come sailing from above.

Hippocrates is still a ubiquitous gentleman, posing full-length in his circular room at the Archaeological Museum. Although one arm is missing and his nose has crumbled, he exudes wisdom and calm, a calm that has spread to the little square with the plane tree, Platia Platanou. At a local kiosk, it's possible to buy - or read secretly - the Oath of Hippocrates, probably known by every doctor in the world. It sets out the principles of his teaching and medical work, his pledge of secrecy and personal behavior in general.

The plane tree, like the man himself, is indomitable, with no respect for what a tree normally looks like. The trunk has in the course of time split into numerous limbs, both vertically and horizontally, many of which have been cut through in order to change their direction. Distinguishing between stem and branches isn't easy. The plane tree is unable to support itself and was years ago provided with a metal corset, a green rack of iron bars.
To prevent it from spreading all over, the plane tree has been enclosed within a circular wall equipped with a metal railing, a hint that nobody is allowed to come closer. A handsomely domed Turkish well adorns one side of the wall. On the opposite side, water can be drawn even today - from a tap decorated with Turkish characters. Today's water, though, is delivered by the municipal water supply.

Historic Neighbors
The surrounding square is covered with fine stone mosaics, light-colored pebbles where the monotony is broken by contrasting dark stripes. Fine also are the neighbors bordering the square. They all radiate age and history, and the most imposing of them is the castle of the Knights of St John, strikingly well preserved and dominating the entire harbor.

A bridge leads from the square over to the entrance of the castle, across a moat in which the water has long since been replaced by a magnificent palm avenue. Before the Knights surrendered Kos to the Turks in 1522, they had set up two frightening cannons at the bridge, still ready to be fired, for a pyramid of cannon balls - apparently in good condition - remains inside the castle.

The most conspicuous neighbor is no doubt the three-story Hadji Hassan Mosque whose slender minaret makes everyone stare admiringly up into the sky. These days, only the ground floor is being used, by little shops selling souvenirs, films and jewellery to the tourists. If casting a glance into the arcade leading straight through the mosque, a Hamam appears in the background; not a Turkish bath any longer despite its name. The steam has been superseded by alcohol - the Hamam is a night club now. Even Italian history is present, in the form of an impressive white Governor's Palace, nowadays housing the court and a police station. (The Italians succeeded the Turks in 1912 and ruled Kos until the Germans took over in 1943.)

Quiet Evening
The tavern Platanos makes it possible to spend a whole evening in the company of Hippocrates, at a table in lush greenery outside an elegant building with a reddish-brown archway. The low-keyed harmony of the square characterizes the tavern as well. Tonight, it's occupied by an international conference holding a banquet, accompanied by gentle music and sensitive French songs performed by a young chanteuse in black.

Between the audience and the stage, a happy dog sits wagging its tail in time with the music, quite unaware of the attention it attracts. Life is too short for French music, it seems to think after a while, tripping along only to cock its leg against an old oleander. The red-flowering bush aspires, it seems, to outgrow the plane tree. Passers-by are more enthusiastic about the entertainment than the dog is; they stop short to listen, and as the few benches are already taken, they simply sit down on the mosaic pavement.

Everyone senses that this spot is a special oasis. It invites thoughtfulness and inspires some to revise their lifestyle. A slim man, in black trousers and an open black shirt, comes staggering across the square swinging a beer can. He is middle-aged, maybe frustrated at not belonging to the young crowd any more. Suddenly, he raises his arm and flings the beer can furiously against one of the cannons, obviously very determined to stop drinking.

Old and New Fanatics

It's really odd that Kos Town should become a party destination for young people. However, the place is so wisely organized that in the middle of the boisterous partying, there are quiet spots where peace is intact, and the square of Platia Platanou is perhaps the most poetic one. Here, you may try out what Hippocrates often prescribed to ensure health and a long life for his patients: fresh air, nutritious meals and lots of quiet and rest in beautiful, peaceful surroundings.

History is so present in Kos that one's own age nearly becomes a trifle. Maybe that's why more mature Kos fanatics never gave up but have adjusted themselves to the new times by arriving in the off-season. Even some of the young people are bound to lose their hearts to Kos - when stumbling over archaeological finds or resting under the old plane tree - and will end up coming back once a year for the rest of their lives. — TR
http://www.artist-at-large.com/greece/kos.htm

The Armon Plane: The Naked Tree

Plane

Armon in Hebrew. The Septuagint translates it as platanes, the plane tree. It is called armon because its bark peels off the trunk, leaving it naked (arum). There might also be an allusion to Laban's trickery (armah; Lekach Tov). The reference is to the oriental plane (planatus orientalis). This is a tall tree, with a trunk as great as 18 feet in diameter, having a lofty crest (cf. Ezekiel 31:8). It is like the sycamore, and was very common in the Middle East. Later sources, however, identify the armon as the chestnut tree (Rashi; Radak, Sherashim). This is difficult to understand, since the chestnut did not grow in Mesopotamia where Jacob was (also see Tosafoth, Rosh HaShanah 23a, s.v. Armonim, Sukkah 32b, s.v. Dulba, Bava Bathra 81a, s.v. Armonim). http://www.eretz.com/NEW/trailgalil.shtml

Thunder and its Scents

Molgar and Rain 11th December 2007
It rained this afternoon.

The clouds opened up and Molgar the thunder in the distance roared. The leaves beyond my window are silent, fixed and dank, dark green. It's the calm before the storm. The illawarra flame has begun dropping its flowers, they litter the newly spread woodchips that the gardeners laid last week.

I walked outside this afternoon, and giant drops filled puddles and the scent of pine trees and eucalyptus leaves hung in the air - beautiful!!

God is the scent of rain, and the air that moves before the arrival of thunder of Thor, God is the entanglement of scents and sounds of life and the rich moist scents of decay, of fertile soils and the possibility for the germination of the seeds within.