Here, we’re among a veritable forest of Jacaranda. They line the streets, and produce masses of these beautiful flowers, which drop all over the place. They blanket the lawns and cover the sidewalk, and when you crush them underfoot there’s an unpleasant smell. They’re pretty messy, when you think about it.

But still..

For our first anniversary, my wife gave me a Jacaranda, which we planted in the back yard. It was a bare root plant, not a leaf on it, so we carefully tended it, waiting anxiously for it to burst into green. It never did. We gave it a couple of years, but nothing. Yet the wood was still green, and it was obviously alive. Eventually, I pulled it out, and the root ball was exactly as it had been when we planted it. Not an iota of growth. Difficult soil perhaps, the nurseryman said. Except that here we are, virtually surrounded by healthy Jacarandas.

Once, I was out walking with my youngest son during the Jacaranda season. It was a beautiful afternoon, the sun shining through the mauve flowers. I remarked to him how pretty it was. His response was that he hated them, because they stank, and when the flowers were all over the footpath his rollerblades would slip and he would fall on his face.

And yet..