More than five years ago, we lived in a “penthouse” apartment that overlooked this tree from nearly a block away. You could not miss it. You could not turn away. Its color is otherworldly among the beige and brown stucco buildings.
After the splendid jacaranda trees drop their lavender flowers, this one, and more like it in hidden courtyards behind drab walls, spring to life.
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Text by Hermann Hesse: “Trees,” from “Wandering: Notes and Sketches”
Photographs by Robert J. Hawkins
“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves.
And even more, I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs, the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. Continue reading
Musings, Magic, San Miguel and More 