As the sun rises from her slumbers over the distant mountains, bathing the valley in the early light of a new born day, the morning chorus of the many birds roosting in the Marula tree breaks forth into the song of dawn, welcoming the day that lies ahead. The woodpecker peers out of its nesting hole in the bowels of the large trunk. While weaver birds, brightly adorned in black and yellow, set forth from their finely woven nests, hanging like cascades from the lower branches.
The nests swing gently in the morning breeze as the parent birds, bent on the labours of the new day, flit back and forth with juicy tidbits for their young chicks. Egrets, elegant in their snow white cloak of feathers, having roosted in her upper branches, now stretch their wings and get ready to join the giraffe, zebra, kudu, and other creatures, with whom they spend the day feasting on the ticks that inflict themselves upon these great beasts of the wilds.
Squirrels scurry from their warm nests in the trunk and race each other along her sprawling branches, intent in their search for food. While many-coloured tree lizards seek her sun drenched branches and surrounding rocks to lie motionless, absorbing the sun's rays as it climbs high into the sky. Ants, beetles and other insects run or fly along her branches, intent on meeting their own needs.
A young mother with hoe in hand and a tiny baby strapped to her back walks from her village to the fields while the early morning dew is still clinging to the grass. She passes under the shade of the Marula tree and looks up at the ripening fruit. Perhaps she would pick some on the way home, but for now the work in the fields is calling her.
The Marula tree lifts her leaves and absorbs the sunlight into herself. The fruits on her branches are round and green, ready to eat. The fruit that has fallen and is now fermenting on the brown earth beneath the tree lets off a pungent smell that attracts many of the animals and birds in their search for food. Vervet monkeys, swinging along in the dizzy height of the tree-tops, drop chattering into the Marula's branches. They are searching out the most succulent fruit but, monkey like, they take one or two bites and drop the rest, half eaten, to the ground where insects and ants devour them. Warthogs and baboons have smelled the Marula fruit and now gather beneath her boughs, scurrying back and forth, rooting out the fruit and enjoying the feast. A nearby waterhole is their next port of call and soon they are drinking thirstily. The inevitable result, caused by the fermenting fruit and water, is a drunken spree. They run and fall and, rising again, try in vain to walk a straight path.
The Marula tree looks on at their antics and smiles a knowing smile – they never learn. Even the mighty elephant, who now appears across the valley, making a direct line for the large Marula tree with her wide spread welcoming branches, will succumb to the lure of the ripening fruit. Hungrily they forage in the tree and on the ground for the delicious fruit. The call of thirst then takes over and they trundle toward the waterhole, intent on a long drink and a wallow in the muddy basin. It takes only a short while for the fermented marula fruit to have its full affect on them!
All this time, the Marula tree is preening herself in the sunlight. Her branches, full of leaves, offer a canopy of shade from the heat of the burning midday sun to many small mammals and birds. Her leaves whisper softly as they are stirred by a sudden gust of wind. The wind strengthens, black clouds gather overhead; the distant mountains become shrouded in mist. Without further warning the rain pours down in a tropical downpour. The lightening strikes fearsomely across the landscape, quieting the sounds of bird and animal alike. The ground below the tree is soon a morass; streamlets flow, carrying fruit, leaves and debris toward the waterhole. All the wildlife has sought shelter under her branches and at her base.
The storm is over as quickly as it began, and the sunlight breaks through the clouds, spreading light and warmth in her path. The rain-washed mountains, no longer shrouded in mist, stand out clearly against the clear blue sky.
Human voices are now heard in the distance and the sound of bare feet running along the dirt path. Golden brown bodies shine in the sun's glow. The children have been out collecting 'relish' in the form of a wild green vegetable to cook with their evening meal. Now, seeing the ripe fruit, they cry out in delight. Scampering around the tree, they select the choicest fruits and drop them into a woven basket. The mothers will be delighted at their find. After being washed carefully, the fruit will be allowed to ferment; and will eventually become a rich fermented drink – cool and refreshing to the taste.
In the midday sunlight the air is heavy with humidity, and life comes virtually to a standstill. Animals and birds alike seek shelter in thickets and the leafy branches of trees. Unseen by human eyes, they wait for the heat to pass. Wiser by far than humans, who often brave the heat of the day in their haste to reach some hidden goal. The Marula tree still stands tall, and spreading her branches, provides home and perch for all who come within her arms. The sunlight filters through the leaves, forming dappled patterns on the ground below. The effects of such light have long been a challenge to impressionist artists in their efforts to reproduce it on canvas.
As the sun begins its downward journey in the western sky, once again the sound of human voices filters through the air. Young herd boys, returning home with their parents' cattle and goats, gather for a few minutes under her branches to rest and sample the frit from the branches; into which they easily clamber. Whooping with delight, full of the joys of youth, they scamper off, calling the cattle and chasing the wayward ones.
The sun makes a rapid descent and the sky is suddenly endowed with the rich colours of another tropical sunset. Pink, purple, orange and gold fill the sky above the distant darkening mountain peaks. All is still. Birds flit silently to nest or chosen perch, while small and large mammals seek out burrow or lair.
Still the Marula tree stands unmoved and immovable, seeing all, saying nothing. The day is over; the world is sleeping around her. But life still continues. The creatures of the night are now at large. An owl, sitting high in the branches, watches for his prey to appear. The grunt of a lion is heard in the distance. The laughter of the hyena causes a shiver to pass over one; while the silent shadow of a leopard out hunting food for her young passes by. Ant bears, springhares, bats and nightjars, all in search of food, go their different ways.
Her roots delve deep into the soil, reaching for the water of life to sustain her, while she in turn offers nourishment and protection to all who pass by. The Marula tree has seen them all come and go, intent upon their intended destinations in the ecology of the wilds. Thus she watches each day as the tapestry of life unfolds itself.
The human mother, like the Marula tree, has a complex mission to fulfil. For she is the provider of sustenance for the fruit of her womb. She gives generously as he partakes of the milk of life. While he grows, she shelters him from the rays of the sun. She weaves cloth to provide him with garments to keep him warm. He knows no fear as he gambols at her feet, crying with delight as they play the timeless game of mother and child. Secure in her embrace he rests in the heat of the day, and finds safety from the storms of life. In her arms he rests and sleeps soundly during he night hours. As he grows and ventures further from her side, he is always aware that she is there if he needs her. Unchanging is her mother love, willing to give the utmost and, if necessary, to die to protect her young. Mother love gives and gives and gives again.
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