As our children were growing up, it became an inviolate tradition.
Sacrosanct.
Monday night was (and still is) Family Night; which means that Briony (being the youngest), for much of her young life, has had Daddy and Mummy to herself for that evening.
So, I well recall that Monday, at the edge of Summer twilight, when we all sat in the centre of our trampoline. We quietly “oohed” and “aahed”, watching the thin clouds still aflame with gold on the horizon.
To our left, a thin crescent moon appeared.
And Briony put her finger to my lips and pointed at our neighbour’s hedge.
She’d seen Boris. And he was hunting. Skimming the hedges and rooftops, and changing course faster than our gaze could follow.
Boris the Bat emerges in the late Summer evenings, and for us has become a magic part of this season. Briony was fascinated. Still is.
And then Boris is joined and chased by Bertha.
How can we tell one from the other? I’ll tell you… We can’t!
But Briony and I understood each other back then. If there’s a Boris, there has to be a Bertha. Right? Right.
Eventually they disappeared, and we stepped down from the trampoline; still quiet, for fear of breaking the spell. When you’re 6 years old, everything is surrounded in magic.
Then Briony held my hand, and walked me round the garden… touching each tree to bid them goodnight.
“Can you hear them whispering?” She said, reverently.
“Of course. Now that you mention it. I can.”
“It feels good out here, doesn’t it Daddy? It feels, you know, peace.”
“Yes it does.”
“Why is that?”
“Because, honey… trees are wise, and they never rush.”
(Oh heck! Now how am I going to hurry this little girl to her bed?!)
Sitting here in my office, I think about what I learned that magical evening.
And how it has helped me at stressful times in my business (and my life).
Boris and Bertha are like many of us in our daily activity.
Frantic, frenetic, hurried, flitting, constantly reacting to the next obstacle.
Following wherever the group goes.
Trees however, dig deep to rise high.
They’re prepared to spend time investing in strategic roots.
Before spending all of their energy on show and blossom and ‘stuff’.
And they know how to change their behaviour, when the environment feels unfriendly.
Because of that, they survive and grow (and grow).
Strong. Often majestic. Inspiring.
And exuding Peace.
Nature (and Briony) tries so hard to teach us.
We simply struggle to listen.
Don’t we?
