Let me share with you the joy I recently felt when I rather by complete luck stumbled upon a birch tree in the Sydney wilderness.
There I was, panting away in the sweltering heat, mistaking the inner West for Bali the as the temperature reached indecent heights. I could feel the heat choking me, the asphalt bubbling under my feet; my shoes melting and I started to transform from a cool swede to a withering turnip. I was wringing my top out as the sweat kept weighing me down, inhaled a litre or two of water to refill the reserves while I contemplated the rest of the journey home. All of a sudden, a little breeze came through and I heard a familiar sound, the very distinct rustling of birch leaves that sounds like no other. “No”, I said to my self, “ It can’t be…” I was at this point leaning more towards the explanation that I was hallucinating as my brain obviously was trying to cope with the heat. But then I heard it again. My eyes followed the sound and lo’ and behold, there it was, a wonderful majestic birch tree speaking to me. It gave me such a pang of familiarity and happiness that I mentally started folk-dancing in my regional folkdräkt with my imaginary dancing partner Börje, who’s little funny woollen knee balls kept banging against my strong legs as we swirled around in the polka while the accordion and violin kept the tempo up.
I was abruptly snapped out of my reveries by the children, who asked why I was standing staring at a tree in someone else’s garden. I reluctantly disentangled myself from Börje’s firm hands around my little waist and tried to explain the significance of my birch sighting, already feeling a good 20 degrees cooler. The level of my children’s excitement reflected their lack of knowledge and affiliation with the birch tree, so I had to continue my birch high all by my self. And continue it did. I forgot about the heat, the melting thongs, sticky asphalt et al. Just by seeing this beautiful tree I could will myself to a cooler place, full of refreshing breezes, overpopulated with Nordic dancing-men, and some classic, slightly annoying, folk music played al fresco. So in times like these, what we all need is our own little mental birch tree to keep the heat under control. If you can’t have your own living birch haven, surround yourself with birch memorabilia, such as beautiful furniture from Gamla Lan, homeware with birch details from Funkis, birch fabrics from Chee Soon & Fitzgerald, or opt for the IKEA version where you can get absolutely everything in birch veneer, including the $1 hot dogs.
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