
Many years ago I experienced first hand the other side of the Poui tree, when I moved to Cascade and found that my new home was surrounded by Poui trees. Both pink and yellow. These trees provide lovely shade in the morning and evening and are home to many species of wildlife including a variety of birds – corn birds, doves, blue jays, kiskadees, hummingbirds and our local parrots. They also provide a home for iguanas, squirrels and the odd woodpecker. I thought that I had gone to heaven and started building a garden that would prosper alongside these beautiful creatures – providing natural food for all things wild, including a small family of agouti.
But when the leaves started to shed making way for the flowers, my heart began to sink, slowly. Every day for just about 6 weeks, there would be a carpet of dead leaves covering my lawn and drowning my plants. It became a chore keeping my garden clean, and my plants un-smothered by leaves. Slowly my dislike for these trees which had given me so much pleasure during the past year, set in.
Then one morning as I peaked through my window I saw a small burst of yellow. And as I ventured outside, a small smile replaced the curiosity on my face. I looked across the valley up towards Lady Chancellor and saw, spotted across the lushness that the yellow Pouis were coming to life. It was almost as if they were calling out to each other across the valley saying ‘Here I am, here I am. Look at me.”
Over the next couple of days my trees were in full bloom and glorious. What I could see from underneath was nothing compared to what those persons on the opposite side of the valley were experiencing. And I smiled broadly.
As the wind blew, and the flowers fell, my garden which was once covered in brown leaves, were now smothered in a carpet yellow. A sight to behold. My dismay turned into sheer joy.
Now, as the dry season sets in, I look forward to the shedding of leaves, knowing that for just a short moment in the very near future, I will be blessed with a beauty like no other.
