In the company of great trees

As a barefoot tomboy growing up on a farm in the Lowveld, trees have always been more for me than a shady spot on the grass. Our old farmhouse faced a mountain on the outskirts of Mbombela (previously Nelspruit). In front of the stately stoep was a stretch of lawn ideal for cricket games with siblings and friends. A perfectly positioned kapok tree served as the wickets. While waiting for my turn to bat, I would throw my head back and admire the behemoth’s Barbie-pink flowers.

Then there was the treehouse perched in a jacaranda, where we’d spend entire afternoons, hands stained purple after picking mulberries from another tree within reach on the edge of the property.

A common wild fig led the way to our fishing pond, where kurpers caught had to be released, and we floated on tractor tubes in the cement dam, where a couple of coral trees kept watch. My high school was named after these fiery flowers; many “mountain flames” flickered brightly on the grounds of Hoërskool Bergvlam.

I’m not the only one who has been touched by the trees of the Lowveld. This is a story about some of the area’s landmark trees, and the people who love and protect them.

Move over, highway

The late New York Times editorialist, Hal Borland wrote: “If you would know strength and patience, welcome the company of trees.” This steady progress over centuries can instil muscle in even the most peaceful people.

For about two weeks in 2011, a group of activists stood guard around a wonderboom fig (), 10km outside Mbombela, on the N4 towards Johannesburg. The tree had been standing sentinel at the entrance to my home town for more than