Waiting for spring

I moved into this house one November. The front yard was bathed in a cool shade from the large tree just inside the wall. It was taller than the house, with a dark brown bark and thick elongated leaves. A month later, the tree started shedding a leaves, an alarmingly large number of leaves, each day. All I had done was water this tree along with its neighboring shrubs which I had inherited along with the rental lease. I was worried. Had my notorious “brown thumb” destroyed this mature graceful tree within a few weeks? Luckily I found a gardener who consoled me by saying that this is an annual phenomenon which would correct itself in spring.

I was reminded of my years on the east coast of US where brilliant fall colors announce the imminent arrival of cold winter weather in a final blaze of riotous color, before they fall to the ground, leaving a landscape of barren trees. It was a beautiful and sad feeling to see the glorious foliage which covered your lawn, your car and even you, as you hurried indoors. I could barely get through the winter months. I waited eagerly for the first sign of spring, the fluorescent tender green shoots, the cherry blossoms lining Jefferson Memorial in Washington DC, the tulips peering out from beneath the cold earth. Spring was my favorite season of all, full with the promise of months of warmth and life in its arms.

But the tree in my Hyderabad house turned barren in the ensuing two months, completely bereft of greenery. I still did not know that I had been lucky enough to inherit a big spectacular frangipani (As a city slicker, I can barely tell the difference between nariyal pani and frangipani). The striking feature of frangipani are its delicate blossoms and tender petals, that sit atop the tallest branches. When the weather turned warm after a cold January spell, the first sign of life appeared at the tips of the branches, white spots dotting the brown bark. In a few weeks, each branch bore flowers, many of which tumbled down to the tiled walkway leading to the house. Spring was finally here.

When it comes to my professional work, there are times when I feel that I am waiting for spring. Since my work comes and goes, there are times of harvest and times of drought. Sometimes there is a promise of a bounty just ahead which stubbornly refuses to materialize. I know it will bloom, like my frangipani, when the time is right, but I am impatient. I want spring. Now. I have to learn patience and like Mother Nature, nurture first before hoping for rewards. I have learnt the frangipani’s cycle in two years. It is my third year as an independent consultant. It’s time I learnt this lesson.

My tree now looks exactly as in the picture – more flowers than leaves but I know that soon it will be all green and once again grace the yard with its generous shade.