In the company of trees – the Rhododendron blooms and delights

I sought the company of trees, particularly the Rhododendron trees this past Easter weekend. It felt like a soothing balm for my head as well as the heart.

I am currently working for an eating disorders charity – this particular role involves looking after their email service, tending to the many emails, writing, editing, and mentoring a team of volunteers. It’s truly one of the most gratifying work I have ever done, and it not only enables me to put my writing and editing skills to good use, but also really learn how to listen, to respond with genuine empathy and in a non-judgemental and non-directive manner. While the work is amazing; I feel as if I have the opportunity to do something meaningful in a world that is unequal and unfair, I also felt as if I wanted to be away from my computer for a bit. As a colleague put it, you have to take pauses to refill your own cup so that you can give meaningfully to your work and the service users.

That is why, for the Easter weekend, I dedicated one day to the company of trees. We headed to the National Botanic Gardens at Kilmacurragh. These gardens, among many others in Ireland, are in the care of the Office of Public Works, and the entry is free, and so is a guided tour. The gardens’ 104 acres are home to a collection of rare trees and shrubs and 300 varieties of rhododendron.

My belief that these trees and gardens would give me a restorative break was reaffirmed when I grabbed a booklet at the gardens’ visitors office.

In the inside flap were these words:

‘The many great gardens of the world,

of literature and poetry,

of painting and music,

of religion and architecture,

all make the point as clear as possible:

the soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden.’

Sir Thomas More (1948 – 1535)

Would you agree?

Thanks to these beautiful trees and how gracefully their blossoms converged at the earth below, I felt I was in a meditation of some kind. I also learnt about the concept of a ‘Victorian Broad Walk.’ These are long, formal walks/walking paths, the idea being that two (Victorian) ladies can walk side by side. The walk would often lead them from the house to the pleasure grounds, and from there to the walled gardens or such. Broad walks apparently became a very popular and fashionable feature of many Victorian gardens in Britain as well as Ireland during the 1840s and 1850s. These formal walks were usually flanked on either sides by stately trees – at the National Botanic Gardens at Kilmacurragh, the broad walk is lined by rhododendron trees. Lovely, isn’t it?

I wanted to hug these trees. Instead, I said a silent thank you.