Tree Basket
(Perseverance Furthers)
When I pulled on the tip of the frond-it was just at the level of my forehead-I swear not more than three pounds downward pressure and two fingers-the whole “branch” came down with a thud. I was not in any danger from its falling. All I had to do was step back a foot or so and I did that instinctively. The heavy end of the frond fell into the bed full of plants and flowers but luckily crushed none of them. As I pulled it out of the planting bed I knocked over one of the stones at the border but that was easily set right. All the while I balanced my coffee cup in my left hand, my dog watching from a short distance, almost as if she knew that there is precarious danger whenever I walk and work among the trees and plants.
The thickest fog I have seen in ages settled around the dune in the night. It is still early, even for me, even after making the pot of coffee, cleaning the stove top, making the dog’s bowl of food and giving her her medicine, it is just 7:00 o’clock. If I were still working I’d be on a commuter train headed for the City right now but I’m retired so my old working schedule is out the window. A short distance from my house I can hear the cars and trucks of those who are still employed flying down U.S.1 (Federal Highway)headed for their work up north in Stuart or south toward Palm Beach. The sound of their tires and their exhaust systems is louder than one would expect at that distance from my house. It is an annoyance as is the bleating horn of the F.E.C. trains that pass just east of my house. They are annoyances I am learning to live with. There are others but not worth mentioning. I could have inadvertently bought one of the houses lower down in the valley of the dune-for that is exactly what this little hilly community is, a sand dune-and been flooded during last year’s rains. I was not here for that but I’m told over a dozen of the houses had two or three feet of water flowing inside of them. If I have to get used to something let it be distant traffic and train noise rather than the threat of a deluge. No, the possibility of flooding is something I carefully investigated before I bought this place. I never considered traffic noise or the train so I try to live with it and so far I have learned to cope.
The fog will burn away in a couple of hours. The sun is fierce and it will be very warm today. Before it becomes too warm I’ll drag that palm frond into the shade and strip it down and rip the branch into long fibrous laces and weave it onto my basket around the plantings surrounding the date palm. The palm is very old and grows next to the southwest corner of the house. The palm frond is a construct I’ve been experimenting with lately. A woven wall about 18 inches high around the little tree. I use scrap lumber cut into stakes and I drive the stakes into the ground. I space them about 6 inches apart along the perimeter of the circle. The perimeter itself is about 6 feet in diameter. I use the heart of the frond for the weaving. It is not woody but more “rope-like” made of long straight fibers that can be ripped into long strips with the aid of sharp snips, a knife to start the rip and then I pull the strips off the branch. A single palm frond will yield four or five 6 foot long strips. Then I weave the strips of palm frond in and out of the stakes forming a basket around the tree. If this sounds complicated, it is not.
The papery leaves of the frond can be used for weaving as well. When I was growing up in Miami I remember seeing men from the islands (Bahamas, Cuba, Haiti) using the palm leaves to weave baskets and hats. Their work was wonderful especially the hats. They were light and cool and could be finished neatly or with the tips of the leaves tickling out of the brims like humorous fringes. The inspiration for my tree surround is these hats and the baskets I’ve seen woven from the fibers of the branch itself. I also credit my mother with introducing me to basket weaving. She was our Cub Scout den mother and making rattan baskets was one of the activities she had us boys doing. Thinking back on that experience makes me smile because now I realize where I got my pluck. Where I find the courage to try new things. How she must have loved bringing her interests into our lives and sparking us to experiment.
As I have said, the leaves can be woven but I don’t use them in this construct. Instead I use my shears to chop them up into little bits. I make a palm mulch which I fills up the floor of the “basket”. The mulch helps to hold the dew and rain in the sandy soil. The ferns and succulent plants enjoy the shade of the tree and the little bit of nourishment in the soil and the damp sand. When I’ve finished with the “Tree Basket” I hope I will have constructed a little environment and a half dozen coconut branches will have magically disappeared back into the soil from which they grew.
I know my yard is taking on a strange and foreign appearance with my odd little constructs and my experimental islands of plantings and my sea grape window shades but I’m not happy unless I am playing. Unless I am experimenting and constructing. I have those Bahamian hat makers and my little Jewish Cub Scout leader Mom to thank for my fire. Also, my Father, who went to work everyday. I know now it was not for love of that work but for love of me and our family. He taught me that perseverance furthers. And last but not least, If I am honest I must also credit my beautiful help mate who smiles on my creations and has learned to love them even though, at first, they always seem a mystery.
