Sunday 12th May 2013.
I hope you can spend the time to read this, it is a little longer than normal for me, I got carried away,,sorry for this…hope you enjoy also….please say hello..
I am hoping to take you back to sunny days and warm starry nights of the late 60’s and early 70’s, up to 1974 actually, mostly this period because it remains prominent in my memory banks. The reason for this story was because I was a little blank today as to what to post. Then this came to mind. Do not know why.maybe the universe called me, or some sort of spiritual intervention. It was, as it was, a very iconic part of my hippy days. Long hair and guitar playing, every inch part of me, and because of this I think my Apple Tree at least deserves being recorded and remembered for all to read, is only small justice.
My story today is not really a Forest Tale of sorts, (maybe continue them one day) although it is a personal story from me while in the Forest. This tree growing in my back garden of my parental home, just a few yards from my back door. The garden was long and narrowish, split by a pathway.set in the New Forest. Many lazy afternoons were spent with friends and girlfriends, sitting around it, leaning against it. Often having some wine or ice-cold cider and playing guitar playing, and while jamming many songs were born.
One particular day and night I recall, we, that is four of us two couples went to a pub called Forest Park Hotel. Here there was a back bar where people like us, as in long hairs and music enthusiasts frequented mostly at weekends. This being so because the bar often had small bands, mostly local, and some not so. My friend John and I played a few duets there. It was hot evening, and we had downed several cold beers and listened to a good acoustic band. We even had a chat with the..
..group for a short time. We all return back to my garden and sat on the ground of thinly spread grass, and I supplied a few more drinks. My older brothers looked down their nose at us, nothing unusual about this, still like this today. Do not get on very well with any of them, hardly ever do we speak during each year. Sad but it is life, well my life.
Anyway I meander, I have a habit of doing this. We spent a couple of hours under the stars talking and playing our guitars and singing quietly, girls also joining in, due to the lateness of the night. I would always position myself against the trunk of this lovely icon of my past. It was due to a recent friendship that I realised how important this tree was in my past life. It is amazing what we take for granted or as just general things of life until we talk about it to people and then realise how big a part of ones life it really was.
It was even a main part, well actually it was the star, next to the characters of my Nanowrimo 2012 romance story. There were many scenes from here, the start of the couples day, and the ending of their day. In fact it was probably the main source for their developing love. As some of you might know, through my past Nanowrimo posts, this story was completed with an ending, now needing a little editing, but I cannot do this due to emotional strings attached with it, so it will probably stay in my computer’s SD card for the rest of it’s life, it might even get deleted, unless (1) I can find someone to edit for me or (2) my approach can change and the emotions greatly lessen.I cannot even get to reading it at the moment. Again I meander away. After a couple of hours John and his partner left and me my partner continued to sit and talk and hug, and enjoy each other’s company. The sky was starry and the universe could be seen, imagination was our only limit. Still very warm, and while star-gazing we both fell asleep in each others arms, and was awoken to the sounds of the dawn chorus and warm sunshine on our faces. Anyway my point is that this Apple tree of mine witnessed many nights and days like this, and was probably my best friend, he was loyal, never lied to me, he made smile, made me cry but he was constant, always there when I wanted him,even gave me food in the summer. I have to also let you know as I recall, we kept Bantams and they also clucked their way into this story, ranging from the cockerel crowing in the early morning or me collecting the small eggs for breakfast. They would also be part of the dawn chorus, although limited in melody.
My oldest brother has this vision of me sitting under this Tree with my guitar and playing my tunes, long blonde hair, swishing in the breezes and just minding my own business. I recently found some lyrics that I wrote for the tree, or I should say my adventures with him.So might try to reinvent them and put some music to them. Don’t know why though.
Many nights I spent falling asleep leaning against it’s trunk, being hugged and look over, sometimes on my own sometimes not. My mother, a very loving woman would bring a blanket and place it over me, she did this several times. One morning the dawn chorus was loud and clear and beautiful, the chirping sounds of many breeds of birds, Song Thrush, Blackbirds, Starlings, Robins just a few, merrily auditioning for my band. As I gathered my bearings and focus I noticed a small Robin redbreast perched on my guitar fret board, I would like to believe he was looking at me, but in truth he was not. I remained still and watching and as he hopped along the length of the guitar frets it could be heard the low plucking tones of the strings he was bouncing on. Quite amusing, I would even go as far as to say he enjoyed the quiet tones he was producing. I could actually go on and on because I remember more as I think more, and surprises me even now how important this tree was to my life, to my friends, to my past love’s, and of course my music, not to forget my romance story of 2012. As I am remembering I am thinking now whether to do another tale of my Apple tree as well as the Village bridge.(I have done a couple on the bridge already) If you would like more please let me know, I would be happy to oblige, emotional journey or not, and whether I like it or not, it was after all part of me, past and present and recent, and others within me. even this small piece is starting to pull at the strings.
All the pictures used are from Google and only symbolic, (even though the tree is pretty close visually to mine) for the story.