When I was young we had a cherry tree in our front garden. It was the largest in the road and every April/May it would burst into beautiful pink blossom. If we were giving people directions to our house in Spring we would always tell them “The house with the large cherry tree in the garden”. Mum adored it. It was always flowering for her birthday which was an extra present each year.

Until the year of the pruning!

Dad noticed that the roots were starting to catch on the lawn mower as he cut the grass, and also began to push up the garden path slightly. He was concerned for the house foundations …so…one Saturday morning he pruned (attacked) it. Branch by branch he made it smaller and smaller until he needed help to cut it down to a stump. It was a sad day for the rest of us. Next Spring we missed that tree so much. The road looked empty without it and the pink confetti it dropped onto the pavement was much missed.

The beautiful Spring heralding blossom tree had gone.

Now, many years later, whenever I drive down the road of my childhood, the front garden of our old family home is bare, empty but full of memories.  


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