Tuesday, 13 May 2025

L' Abbraccio del Ippocastano

 Per più di due cento anni, maestosi alberi di castagno hanno confinato il parco della villa di una famiglia nobile.   Le chiome ampie e rotondeggianti e i grossi rami dei castagni erano stati per secoli rifugio per soldati stanchi e affamati grazie al loro squisito frutto e alla loro ombra rassicurante. Viaggiatori e pellegrini li avevano trovato sollievo per il corpo e lo spirito .

Immerso nella vegetazione del parco c'era un unico ippocastano. Una leggenda diceva che poiché le sue ghiande non erano commestibili gli gnomi per consolare gli ippocastani impartirono proprietà magiche ai loro frutti. 

Ora mai soldati e pellegrini non passavano più e il parco era diventato il regno dei bambini del paese che lo animavano in tutte le stagioni. 

Ottobre segnava il periodo  delle 'battaglie' con le cosiddette castagne matte, le giornate si accorciavano e all'imbrunire le mamme chiamavano i bimbi a rientrare .

 

Gli alberi del parco facevano frusciare le foglie in saluto, pronti ad avere il parco tutto per se e gli scoiattoli si rincorrevano indisturbati prima che cadesse la notte. 

L'Ippocastano agitò i suoi rami in segno di addio pieno di gioia per tutti gli abbracci ricevuti. Amava la sensazione delle braccia dei bambini intorno a lui, i loro piccoli piedi che si arrampicavano sui rami grossi e robusti .  Gli alberi di castagne ,sentendosi superiori , lo prendevano in giro perché le sue castagne erano pur sempre matte.

I rami del Ippocastano frusciarono e sussurrarono nell' aria tiepida della sera. Egli era molto fiero del suo tronco e dei suoi rami. In due cento anni aveva visto bambini crescere e invecchiare, soldati partire e non tornare, promesse d'amore, lacrime e risate e aveva cercato di consolarli tutti.

Ogni emozione umana gli era passato intorno e l'ippocastano sentiva una grande empatia.

Vide una donna che camminava verso di lui e scosse i rami allarmato, era troppo tardi per una donna sola.

La donna si inchinò e prese una ghiande lucente, trattenendola nel palmo della mano, stava piangendo e quando alzò lo sguardo l'Ippocastano la riconobbe. 

L'aveva vista crescere, innamorarsi, invecchiare e ora era sola.  La donna lo abbracciò e lui sentì la sua solitudine, la sua tristezza. Le sue braccia si strinsero attorno a lui poi sospirò girandosi verso il cancello notò una figura immobile e la guardò allontanarsi in fretta.

Lidia aveva sempre amato questo parco, i magnifici castagni ma sopratutto l'ippocastano, solo come lei. Da quando aveva perso suo marito la solitudine e il dolore l'avevano travolta e sentiva un grande vuoto. Appoggiò la testa al tronco e si ricordò i momenti felici, voleva tornare in dietro, voleva suo marito. 

Alzando la testa, vide una persona che si affrettava verso di lei, udì una voce che la chiamava 

'Sei tu Lidia?'

Era la sua vicina Elena, provò un senso di sollievo.

' Scusami non volevo spaventarti ,ti ho visto entrare nel parco da sola e mi chiedevo se potevo offrirti un caffe.' sorrise timidamente.' 


Elena sembrava cosi preoccupato che Lidia le posò la mano sul braccio e gli sorrise. Le faceva piacere che qualcuno si preoccupasse per lei.

Si rese conto che teneva ancora in mano la castagna e gliela tese.'Mia madre diceva che le castagne matte portano fortuna ....'

Seduta al bar con la sua gentile vicina Lidia sentì un calore diffondersi nel suo cuore . Dopo tanto tempo stava riassaporando la magia del cambiamento della stagione che tanto amava. Alzò gli occhi verso gli alberi del parco, maestosi, magnifici, secolari ed era sicura che la stessero salutando.


L'Ippocastano scosse i suoi rami, le foglie frusciarono e i castagni si inchinarono verso di lui consapevoli che era successo qualcosa di magico.



aIt was late afternoon and the playground at the edge of the park was almost empty. Mothers were calling their children to go home. The trees in the park were rustling their leaves, ready to have the park to themselves so the squirrels could run about before night fell.

The horse chestnut in the middle of the park waved his branches in a farewell, full of joy for all the hugs he'd received that day. He loved the feel of the children's arms around him, their feet on his branches climbing upwards and then calling out that they were on top of the world. In spring they marvelled at the white flowers and in autumn they collected the conkers lying at his feet. The chestnut trees often teased him., especially when the mothers told the children  to throw away the conkers because they couldn't eat them, not like the proper chestnuts which could be taken home and roasted by the fire.

He sighed and his branches rustled and whispered. He was very proud of his branches, he was about two hundred years old and sturdy and strong.  The park used to belong to a villa and he had seen so families grow up and grow old, go to war and come home again, lovers' vows, tears and laughter. He had comforted them all.

Now the park belonged to the town and he revelled in the children's laughter and their antics running round and climbing onto his branches. Every human emotion had passed around him and he felt he had developed a special sense although the other trees made fun of him.

 He saw a woman walking towards him and he shook his branches in alarm, it was late and he knew she should be going home.

The leaves lying around him crackled as she scuffed them up with her boots and she picked up one of his shiny conkers caressing it in the palm of her hand. He could see that she was crying  and as she looked up into his branches and stroked his bark he recognised her. She'd played here as a child and come here as a young woman stealing kisses in his shade then with her own children and then with a man. He'd watched them grow old together and now it seemed she was on her own again. He hadn't seen her for a long time. She put her arms around him and he felt her sadness, her loneliness. The park had gone very still and it was getting dark. Her arms tightened and he heard her sigh and turning towards the gate she noticed a figure standing there.

He watched as she hurried off. 

Lidia had gone to the park on a whim. Since losing her husband loneliness and pain had engulfed her.  She had always loved this park in every season thrilled by each change throughout the year. She felt a lump in her throat and fought back tears .

The park seemed very quiet and she realised there was no-one left and the dusk was settling with an eerie mist.

The tree felt comforting and warm but she'd always been afraid of the dark and hurried towards the gate. She could see a figure by the gate and fear gripped her. Then a voice boomed out, 'Is that you Lidia?'

She stopped as recognition dawned, it was her new neighbour a man of about her age. She felt relief wash over her.

He carried on, apologetic now,

'I didn't mean to frighten you, It's just I saw you going into the park and you looked upset and I wondered if you would like a cup of coffee.'

He looked so worried that she laid her hand on his arm and smiled at him. It seemed so long since anyone had noticed her.

She realised that she was still holding the conker in her hand and  held it out to him.

My mother said conkers bring good luck, would you like to keep it? It's from the Horse chestnut tree in the centre of the park. I love that tree.'

Sitting in the coffee bar with her kind neighbour Lidia felt a warmth spread around her heart. Finally as she held her hot coffee she could feel the magic of the changing seasons that she loved so much returning. She raised her eyes to the trees in the park , majestic against the setting sun and was sure they were waving at her.


The horse chestnut tree bowed and swirled and the other trees in the park waved aware something magical had happened.







Tuesday, 18 March 2025

Draft - Trees that grow roots - Il bosco dei ricordi

Un albero una storia

As the plane taxied down the runway and lifted into the air Elizabeth felt her heart soar with it up above the clouds, a feeling of joy that emanated from within, spreading warmth and comfort around her aching heart.. She was going home. A lump came to her throat and tears threatened to spill because there was joy but sadness too. It was her first trip back without her beloved husband Jacques. She shook herself and sat up straighter as the steward handed out water and peanuts. The woman in the seat next to her passed them across and she automatically replied 'merci'. The woman smiled and asked her if she was French. Elizabeth took a breath and recited as she had for so many years,'I'm English but have lived in France for many years '

 I have two grown up children, a daughter and a son and five grandchildren.' She could hear her daughter Delphine's voice and  imagine the rolling of the eyes and saying something like 'TMI mum you don't have to tell everyone your life story.'

Delphine wasn't here though and the woman looked interested and introduced herself as Pauline. then she smiled and returned to her book, joining the army of thousands of travel companions that had lightened her journeys over the years with their smiles.

Elizabeth looked out of the window waiting for the moment when she could easily make out the English channel and as the coast of England came into sight her heart soared again.  It was always such an emotional moment for her and along with the joy there was deep pain. the years of  heartbreak of leaving her ailing parents and then the pain of knowing they were not waiting for her anymore. Her father had always told her never to organize a surprise visit, that for him there was so much joy in the preparation for her visit. He said there was a word for it in German 'Verfreude' a sense of joyful anticipation.

It was spring and she revelled in the atavistic pleasure of the passing of the four seasons. Each one had its charm, but in spring there was the added magic of her beloved bluebell woods in the Beech woods around her childhood home.

As a child she had picked bluebells with her sister Kathy and her mum had arranged them together with the first bright green beech leaves dipped in glycerine to keep them fresh. Picking wildflowers was frowned upon now and flowers like cowslips flourished on all the banks.


As the plane landed and there was a flurry of movement as overhead lockers were opened and a rush to exit the plane  she felt again a sense of delightful anticipation mixed with the heartache of loss, pain and joy and then she saw her sister waiting by the Costa coffee her face lit up with love and arms enveloping her in a warm healing embrace. No words were needed between the sisters to express their deep emotions, the great love for their parents and each other, the sorrow of losing them and now Jacques, all these emotions were contained in their hug.

Kathy nuzzled into Elizabeth's  neck, then mumbled  'cup of tea and the bluebell woods?'  Struggling with her tears Elizabeth nodded, 'Perfect.'

Buoyed up by her sister's presence and the hot cup of tea she changed into boots and a jacket for their walk. Kathy let her two dogs off the lead the moment they entered the wood. 

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks as they approached the sea of purple bluebells, breathing in the scent and watching the shafts of sunlight thread their way through the crisp clean green of the beech leaves. She turned to Kathy,

'It's life-affirming, it's magical, it never fails to bring me joy and now will help with healing. It's that feeling of joy that's a type of fulfillment that transcends fleeting moments of happiness.'

Her sister giggled, 'oh Lizzie you and your flowery words, I just love it.'

They linked arms and trod gently through the wood keeping to the path. Elizabeth thought to herself, not wanting to sound gushing but feeling that this joy was giving her the confidence to know that all is well regardless of external circumstances.

Here in these woods she had always felt, since she was a child ,a joy, a sensation that was the ultimate pursuit and realization of life's purpose. She felt Jacques' presence, her parents love for her, her grandparents who had trod these woods facing great challenges , the men to the trenches and Africa, the women finding solace in these woods.

Kathy stopped and called the dogs to heel and put her arm around her sister, 'I'm not as good as you with words, but listen '.  In the silence that followed they heard the first gentle song of the cuckoo.

Elizabeth's phone rang, making them jump and startling a squirrel that darted up a tree.  

Cheerful voices rang out as she looked at her daughter Delphine and her son Jean-Paul with their partners and all her lovelygrandchildren, jostling to see her on the screen, cries of 'mami, maman, chèrie, tu me manques.' they were blowing kisses and the baby was chuckling at the bundle of cousins.

She laughed and waved at them and reassured them she would be home soon and then swung the camera round the wood to show them the beauty..More cries of wonder and 'ooh la la, la mer.' 

As they walked back to Kathy's house they reminisced and turning to each other their eyes glistening they spoke in unison, their mother's words, 'roots to grow, wings to fly and a reason to come home.'


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