Re: Childhood plant memories

Jan Smithen wrote:


Does anyone else have childhood memories of what you did with plants??
Some of my most vivid childhood memories revolve round the numerous and lovely trees and shrubs of the large garden on our Kenya coffee farm.

In particular it had the most wonderful selection of climbing trees. Three of the best of these were Cape chestnuts (Calodendron capense) and the forth was a massive mango tree. As a solitary child (the youngest of the family by 11 years) sitting and dreaming in a tree was about my favorite occupation. One of the chestnuts was not only eminently climbable but also close to the front verandah and this had added attraction in that, as I could go very high in it, whenever my mother happened to notice me I was sure to get a gratifying cry of horror from her about how dangerous it was and how I should come down lower at once (which of course I ignored!). In fact I never fell from a tree in my life and still used my climbing prowess to good effect on occasion while running my pruning business many year later.

The mango tree (which at over 4,000 ft altitude was right on the end of its range) was much shorter than normal but the trunks had grown out sideways about eight feet off the ground and it spread over a very wide area. These were truly massive affairs, close to 3ft in diameter and once on was up on them it was possible to move about or sit as comfortably as though on a solid floor. It had the added advantage that it overhung a road along the border of the garden and I often lay among the branches as a mighty hunter with my toy bow and arrows (or sometimes as a leopard maybe) and imagined attacking the traffic passing underneath.

There was a very thick canopy of leaves but odd openings allowed someone up in the branches to see out secretly and this I greatly appreciated when I fancied a bit of quiet and privacy. In fact on one occasion this caused a great deal of alarm in the family when I disappeared up the tree after a spat with my mother and she had no idea where I had gone. Apparently search parties went out all over the farm looking for me before I finally descended quite unaware of all the trouble I had caused. Why it never seemed to have occurred to anybody just to go out into the garden and shout for me I have never quite understood <G>

There was an extensive shrubbery which had several interesting possibilities too. There was a massive Lantana bush which had a very cozy room-shaped hollow underneath for playing houses and a frangipani which I found endlessly fascinating as a subject on which to practice rubber tapping. The poor thing had small gashes all over its fat stem and little dishes set underneath to catch the latex which oozed out of the wounds. Not that this is any good for making rubber, but the collecting seems to have been satisfying enough for me apparently.

The same shrubbery also had a large bush of the double pink oleander, an exceptionally fine form common throughout East Africa. I did not usually bother with it, but one day I suddenly got the urge to pick a bouquet for my mother and tried to break off a few shoots. If you have ever tried to pick oleander you will know it cannot just be snapped off due to a strongly fibrous stem and after grappling with it for some time I decided all I could do was bite the stems through which I proceeded to do. As most of you probably know Oleander is distinctly poisonous. Fortunately for me the sap has a very unpleasant flavour and each of my bites was therefore accompanied by a vigorous spitting. Anyway I finally got off three fine stems and triumphantly carried the bouquet to my mother without suffering any ill effects.

It is ironic to think that my mother (who was actually an ex-nurse) apparently did not know about the bush's poisonous reputation or I would have probably got some immediate drastic treatment to ensure my survival -a clear case of "what the eye does not see the heart does not grieve about" if ever there was one!

I have chosen my tree memories to share, but like many tropical gardens I should guess, the vegetation and wildlife which it supported in those days before man's spraying madness took hold was absolutely amazing in beauty and interest and when I recall them my memories seem to be almost enough to fill a book, so I won't overwhelm you with them.

Moira
--
Tony & Moira Ryan,
Wainuiomata, North Island, NZ. Pictures of our garden at:-
http://mywebpages.comcast.net/cherie1/Garden/TonyandMoira/index.htm
NEW PICTURES AND DIAGRAMS ADDED 20/Feb/2005

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