I’ve always thought olive trees have a special kind of beauty. I think it goes back to the childhood summers I spent in Spain. We had a house in Marbella. This was before it become a tourist attraction. The locals used to stop dead in their tracks, and ask if they could touch our blond hair. My mom loved to explore the countryside, and we often walked through grooves of olive trees. These crooked, small trees, felt unreal. Different from other trees somehow. When I see olive trees I can feel my mothers hand in mine, as we take a walk through an old farming community, admiring these beauties.
We have a similar climate where I live now, in northern California. There’s plenty of olive trees. One day I’m going to have some that are mine. I did try planting them in containers a couple years ago. It went really well. They thrived, and become huge. I sold them when I could’t move them by myself anymore. I’ll have to plant some new ones.
Early Saturday morning I was driving home, from Sacramento. I passed these beauties, just before sunrise. Of course I had to stop, and stretch my legs for a bit. The fact that they are older, and not perfectly trimmed, makes them even more beautiful in my eyes. Do you have a favorite tree? Maybe a tree, or plant that brings back wonderful memories? Tell me about it!