Date Published: 20-Apr-2011

The only time I could ever have claimed to have green fingers was the time I painted a bedroom in a shade that was somewhere between emerald and lime.

Other than having to mow the lawn so I can get out to the wheelie bin, I’m not a gardener – to me, the garden is something I quite enjoy looking at it without ever feeling the need to actually get involved in that sort of stuff myself.

But trees are a different matter altogether; they just do it for me every time. The best thing is that our few trees were in the back garden for decades before we moved into our house and they’re likely to be there for many years after we’ve gone.

They’re even beautiful when they’re bare in winter time, when their gnarled branches are like the veins on the back of an old man’s hand – or a supermodel’s for that matter – and I could watch them for hours.

I scarcely have a clue which type of trees they are – and the garden is about the size of a championship-size snooker table to so it’s not like we’re talking Powerscourt or Coole Park here.

There’s definitely an apple tree or two, a smallish pear tree and a large cherry blossom which is currently a rich shade of red before shortly transforming into a sea of white that will eventually fall and look to the shortsighted like a fall of snow in April.

Such is the importance of the cherry blossom in Japan that people time the short holidays they get to coincide with their flowering.

Cherry blossom viewing is known as Hanami in Japanese, and it usually involves sitting under a cherry blossom tree and relaxing, while enjoying a picnic food, and beer.

The arrival of the cherry blossom in full flower also signifies the start of spring and marks the start of the new school year for students, it is also the start of new financial year for business – not something we’d celebrate any longer in this country.

But even without any of that symbolism, there is something about these trees – in flower or in winter – that has a strange calming effect.

Through the bare branches in winter, the lights from UHG over our back wall shine through like a low bright (admittedly orange) moon which might remind me of Lord of the Rings or Narnia if I’d ever seen any of the movies.

But most of all, the presence of trees brings home the fact that you may someday own your house – if you can hold onto your job and the banks don’t come after you – but these trees are only yours to look at.

Somebody planted ours half a century ago and, barring disease or freak lightning, they’ll be there long after we’re pushing up daisies.

I may never have green fingers or a desire to dig deep into the clay – but then you don’t have to play in Croke Park to enjoy watching the All-Ireland Final.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.