THE BANYAN TREE

Nope, this is not about that world renowned 5* hotel chain...I'm talking about an actual tree, 榕樹 in Chinese, or Ficus microcarpa for the botanists amongst us. 

I've known this species early on in my childhood, given the imposing presence of one that stood sentry in the playground of the kindergarten/primary school that I attended.   For as long as I could remember, no one - not even the most rambunctious, lizard-chasing, spider-fighting boys in my class - had ever dared to climb that tree, although its low, sturdy branches would have made it a good candidate.  

By and large, I don't think we respected it for its age, although it was indisputably ancient - probably even older than the school.  I'd suspect that most of us kids were simply spooked out by the shadow cast by its extensive foilage, and the innumerous aerial prop roots which dangled so low that it brushed like invisible fingers against our hair, if we stood too close to the gnarly trunk.  By the hundreds, those pale pink berries which rained profusely onto the playground in the summer were squashed into jam by the crazy running feet of children at recess.  These smelled sickly-sour as they rotted under the sun, and I still remember the ominous buzz of the wasp nest that was found hanging from a high branch one particular year.  This was a tree that had a determined presence in all our class photos, and therefore all the more a force to be reckoned with.

As I grew older, I met other ancient Banyans which cast a welcome shadow in my path, whenever it was scorching hot or dripping wet.  Those few which stood just outside St. Andrew's Church in TST, as well as another few on the fringe of Kowloon Park at Haiphong Road I particularly liked, as they are the few giants that I've known forever that remain standing.     

So it was just natural that I knew immediately what it was when I saw it, a single sprig of green that had erupted from one of the drainage holes along the stone wall outside my apartment complex.  When I first saw it a couple of years ago, I'd thought that it was a branch caught there after the rain somehow, although being that high up it was a weird place to be.  In the ensuing months and years, my reckoning that it was mere "passing-by " debris was proved wrong, as that little branch extended upwards and downwards aggressively to form the rudiments of a tree.  

Dragging my steps home in the late evening during those first years of struggling in the real world, I would pass by the Tree and marvel at how well it coped.  Considering that it stood on the 12 inch width of pavement where not a single speck of earth was in sight, nourishment must have been hard to come by.  And yet and yet, baby Banyan grew lusher by the season, and its grip on the wall firmer and more certain by the year.  During our walks, even Julie-girl stopped to look at the sparrows which flew in and out of its branches... despite Her Highness's none-too-humble proclamations that this tree was a proud example of her philosophy, there was no disputing that this tree was a fighter, and fighters are difficult to dislike, like in the movies.

Growing where it was though, I'd wondered aloud to Her Highness whether those roots which must have been so hungrily invading a crevice or two in the wall behind it would one day damage the same.  We reasoned matter-of-factly that it was only a question of time before the Tree was put in its rightful place by humans with their electric saws, although we both hoped that day would not come. 

Come it did, and the outcome shocked me to a standstill as I was out walking Julie one night.  All I can say is that the job was....thorough....and left me with many sighs. 

The present remains of the Tree, and the branches dumped carelessly over the metal fencing across the road.

And the Tree in happier days

My only consolation is that I did take a photo of it earlier this February, on a whim...so now the Tree can reign for posterity - in the form of an image on my desktop.