a chinese wisteria tree
I’m starting a collection of trees I see and love from around the world.
this tree is a chinese wisteria tree growing in riverdale, the bronx — at the wave hill garden and cultural center.
the trunk of the tree is flat, almost like the flat edge of a blade. then it arches up and twists itself around the corner of the house, and hangs over the other side, overlooking a hill.
its blossoms are magical and so fragrant. a delicate and fragile kind of beauty.
I don’t know why it’s called a chinese wisteria — I’ve never seen one before in china, and I don’t understand how I’m seeing this for the first time in the bronx, new york city.
it has a melancholic, bittersweet sort of beauty which reminds me of willow trees of my hometown.
it is the the kind of tree I’d plant for my mother, or my daughter, or my sisters, hugging a house I build for her, with a large window looking into the blossoms every year.
maybe she would sit by the window drinking tea, listening to music, as time ages her and the tree — until the tree outlives her one day, and carries on her spirit in the fragrance of the blossoms each spring.