Camphor tree visit

One of the prodigious, evergreen camphor trees is Ama’s friend. It has a pale, rough bark, very pleasant in touch if you don’t mind a little bit of tickles. It grows not far away from Ama’s house, so she can visit it often. Now, in spring, the camphor tree is sprinkled with dozens of little white flowers. Ama smells them often and tries to understand their fragrant language. Everything speaks. Even, does the trunk Ama loves to climb up so much. When she nestles against the camphor tree’s branches she imagines the embrace of her mum’s arms. To release the aromatic presence of the glossy leaves Ama squeezes them gnetly in her hands. Grandma Miko often prepares sweets, adding camphor as a flavor and magical ingredient. It spreads through the house, as the symbolic haze of a bond that links Ama with the old, camphor tree, her confidant. But, little girl knows how to listen too when her friend responds by a subtle gust of wind or by a stray, whirling leaf which finally lands on Ama’s little head with a tender brush.