Belonging

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Twigs twitch, limbs sway. A ringtail possum takes cover within the woody womb.

Lily Pily Acmena Smithii has been rooted to my garden for close to a century. A capturer of carbon, and of footballs, it is a keeper of peace within an ever-changing neighbourhood.

Standing at more than 12 metres high and 8 metres wide this significant tree is a defiant giant that stretches from boundary to boundary. It consumes the block and commands respect from neighbours whose verdant thumbs lay fixed in beds of manicured moraya and buxus.

An arbiter to arborists who shape its form, the artistically striking perennial speaks to all who perch within or walk beneath it. The tree's mushroom-like shape envelops a variety of fauna dressed in feathers and in fur. It shades colonies of ground-dwelling plants from blistering hot days and has been a buttress for pint-sized humans who built cubbies in days gone by.

This colossus in my life emits an orchestra of sound all year: a wind instrument that heralds the change of seasons with symphonic effect. Rhythmic gusts of nor-east breeze laced with salt from the sea play from dawn til dusk in summer. The tune explodes when searing westerlies strip leaves and shed twigs throughout the canopy. Licking blasts of hot air twang and contort the tree's timber with scorching precision.

Resistant to a force-10 gale, when rain falls, lily pily acquiesces to the sky. Its lush leafy lid opens up to the heavens for a drink. Drawing moisture from a root system that maps the municipality of Mosman, treebeard bleeds kino and sheds character-riddled bark from its bulging girth like shards of skin. New growth soon appears and the cycle revolves.

Possums feast on succulent shoots, Frogmouths nest on fibrous forks and kookaburras line up for a laugh. The virgin forest dweller asks for nothing in return. It cools the air, calms one's mood and lessens the angst from a stressed-out city. Providing solace, shade and a sense of calm –  it's where I belong.







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