The Fragrant Jacaranda Trees of Pretoria

history of The Fragrant Jacaranda Trees of Pretoria

Word goes between the South African students that when the fragrant Jacaranda trees bloom in Pretoria it is time to start studying for the end of year exams…

The Fragrant Jacaranda Trees of Pretoria, Hill Street, Hatfield

They are in flower nowadays and this week we happened to drive along some pretty dressed up streets in Pretoria.

The Fragrant Jacaranda Trees of Pretoria – and their bitter-sweet story

The fragrant Jacaranda trees with their purple – blue flowers (they can bloom white buds too) are not indigenous to South Africa, but were imported from South America (namely Argentina and Brazil) around 1880.

Jacaranda means fragrant in the Tupi–Guarani dialect of South America. The Tupi–Guarani were the very first tribe to come in contact with the Europeans who joined Christopher Columbus in his travels. Sadly, the European ways imposed on them and probably the Jesuit invasion that followed forced hundreds of Guarani men, women and children to commit suicide. The Tupi are the Indian peoples living in the valleys of Brazilian rivers, especially the Amazon.

The Fragrant Jacaranda Trees of Pretoria

And a pawpaw for Halloween

Squarres Photography

The Fragrant Jacaranda Trees of Pretoria is my contribution to Becky’s incredible October Squares #KindaSquare blog feature. Do have a look 🙂

Kinda Pink, Poetry Like a Puppy’s Tongue

Kinda pink rose poetry

Enjoy reading this kinda pink, humorous poetry just like a puppy’s tongue. I do hope it will please most dog and nature lovers too, as it is accompanied by square photos of pink roses we are lucky to enjoy in our garden.

“I hear children laughing in the yard today,

I hear puppy barking, I hear a horse’s neigh.

The chickens are peeping, “all is good!

“It’s a birthday party; we’ll get bits of food.”

And puppy’s tail wiggles;

He sees IT… It is loose!

It’s oval, it bounces, it floats away,

It’s pink like his tongue, it wants to play!”

pink rose like a puppy's tongue and a poem

“I’m coming!” barks pup and off he goes.

Down the hill the pink shape flows

And puppy follows suit. It’s just within his reach,

Just above his nose.

As pink as a rose, yet as light as snow,

While puppy’s paws drum on the ground below.

Floating shape and furry dog, they’re one with the day,

It’s summer, I hear a donkey bray, “let’s play!”

“I’ll catch you! Just wait!”

And puppy jumps once more.

“Whoosh!” blew the wind, just as pup’s mouth came near,

And up flew the pink ball, as fast as a spear.

While puppy lands with a loud “splash”

Right in the pond, in the green, slimy marsh.”

“A drippy, green form comes out.

Where is pup?

The green form just drips, his ears lay low,

He stands on his feet, yet his heart sinks below…

The green form sighs twice, then looks up at the sky

Where the pink balloon flies away, its tail saying “bye-bye.”

And puppy whimpers.

And sneezes, once.

The children still play, up on the hill, all the way up.

How will he climb all the way back? He’s but a pup.

“Come here, you silly boy,” Mom picks him up;

She’s got a blanket; she gets him all cleaned up.

“The balloon might fly up with the wind,

But I’ve got my Mom to cuddle with.”

Copyright © Patricia Furstenberg. All Rights Reserved.

As Good as Gold, poetry for dog lovers

The above poem is titles As Pink As a Puppy’s Tongue and is an extract from my poetry book for dog lovers (and not only) As Good As Gold.

Squarres Photography

Kinda Pink, Poetry Like a Puppy’s Tongue is a contribution to Becky’s incredible October Squares #KindaSquare blog feature.

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Life as a Journey, October Squares

life, travel, train, snow

We imagine our life as a continuous journey.

We picture ourselves following a sinuous track, using various means of transport. Some travel as solitary cyclists, others prefer the train, with friends and family alongside. Few journey by foot. Most of us accustomed to accept fellow travelers as partners or companions in our journey.

We travel wrapped up in an image of ourselves; we carry with us experiences and memories as luggage. Some light, some overwhelming. Dull or brightly colored.

But maybe we should see ourselves as places, locations, as fixed points on a chart. Infinitely stable. Each a world of its own. Mine and yours, then ours; his or hers. Joined by roads on which dreams, plans and worries travel from one such universe to the next. While we exchange impressions about our experiences in an attempt to understand others, but mostly to understand ourselves.

What if life, as a journey, is about figuring out ourselves?

Life Journey October Squares

Life as a Journey, our imagination kindled, as a contribution to Becky’s October Squares #KindaSquare

Squarres Photography
Books by Patricia Furstenberg on Amazon