Every Spring the Jacaranda tree can be seen blooming in many places here in Southern Africa. And it need not ask permission to do so. It just blooms



Today I saw the first few tentative flowers budding from the Jacaranda outside my window. I did not realise there was a Jacaranda outside there, it had just been another tree, a bland and forlorn looking structure that blocked my view to the street below. Yet inside this tree is promise of a raucous exhibition of colour that cannot be ignored; eye catching, flaring purple petals will set our street ablaze for weeks to come. But today, it bears just a few skirmishes of purple and green, like the absent minded blob on a canvas of weary painter. Do not despise the day of small beginnings. Of low turnouts and painfully slow progression is the start of many a great mission. Today it is just a project, a one man show, a curtain raiser for the main performance, the section of the newspaper that nobody seems to notice, the winner of the bronze medal. But like the Jacaranda outside my window, the months of unnoticed work are not wasted but rather in preparation for the season of blooming. Time spent in preparation is just as valuable as time spent in the bloom; the Jacaranda outside my window today is no less significant than it will be in a few weeks from now when in bloom; its just not noticeable yet. Everything is made beautiful in its time, just like the Jacaranda.


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