Coming home from the last committee meeting I'll ever attend, I turn off the car radio and darken the dash board lights. Streetlights flick over and above me. I just want to hear the sound of tyres on Anzac Highway headed west for Glenelg. Don't want the distractions of radio noise, or to think anymore. This month has been too big for my tired brain. I think of a good friend of mine, Casey, diagnosed with depression and hallucinating at work. Her brain ceased to function. Just could not work out how to move her hands to move the damn computer. She couldn't believe she had 'depression', more like complete malfunction.
I cruise in the silence, blissful. Breathing, quietly the sound of my breath soothing me. Shoes kicked off and air coming in through the windows. My body gears down one more level. Head for Holder St to find my tree. I've navigated my neighborhood by this massive gum tree; it dominates west Hove, towering above houses with branches reaching an forking out 30 metres and more. It's the granddaddy of trees, stretching elegant, tall and silent. My ritual is to drive slowly underneath it with my headlights turned off, just to see the silvery bark glow in the darkness all above me, moving gently like octapus arms, watching over the neighborhood. I love that tree.
I do it again, one last time.
I cruise in the silence, blissful. Breathing, quietly the sound of my breath soothing me. Shoes kicked off and air coming in through the windows. My body gears down one more level. Head for Holder St to find my tree. I've navigated my neighborhood by this massive gum tree; it dominates west Hove, towering above houses with branches reaching an forking out 30 metres and more. It's the granddaddy of trees, stretching elegant, tall and silent. My ritual is to drive slowly underneath it with my headlights turned off, just to see the silvery bark glow in the darkness all above me, moving gently like octapus arms, watching over the neighborhood. I love that tree.
I do it again, one last time.
