Jackaranda Memory Lane

 Jacaranda have long been known as the symbol of waiting for true love in hopelessness. An unfortunate label for such a magnificent tree. The amethyst color has also been associated with funerals and someone’s passing. But this splendid tree when it’s in full bloom only has pleasant memories for me. It’s royalty. 

Last week, a friend took us on a tour of Gardena, as a side trip to an event. He showed us the main boulevard downtown and related the history as far back as the red line to Hollywood for a monthly treat of a movie and popcorn for twenty-five cents. He veered onto a street that was encased by Jacaranda. I felt like I was driving through a tunnel to glory. The street was encased in fallen blooms and the trees arched together at the tops sealing out the daylight and creating a purple firmament. 

My thoughts took me back to South Africa. Pretoria. 


A city filled with parliamentary procedures and government gardens with street after street lined with Jacaranda. We were being taken on another tour. Compliments of Eberhard’s good friend Rory, from Johannesburg. Buildings built in the fifties and remembrances from events and the good life of days long past. A glimpse into Eberhard’s past that I hadn’t known. 

Another memory. It’s early May, and I see the first Jacaranda of the season. In the desert it’s a sure sign of Spring. Jacaranda won’t bloom till much later in Los Angeles. I think of Susan, my sister. It’s her favorite tree and color. All the fun times we had touring and discovering parts of the desert and Los Angeles. The ocean, boulevards, shops and restaurants. 

I come back to the present moment and think about how the Jacaranda has been criticized for being a messy tree because of the sticky blooms. I guess it’s just perspective. For me, a perspective on life. Life is messy and the sticky is just a form of honey. Just the sweetness that we all need in order to make joy happen. Without hopelessness.


2 Responses

  1. sweet, and nostalgic


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