I was out cycling at the time, on the nineteen-eighties fold-up bicycle that Bill bought from a garage sale and dismantled, derusted, re-painted and put together again especially for me, when I had the urge to go home – back to our old house at Wynnum. Lota isn’t exactly home territory but my homing sense led me in the right direction up the hill toward Manly and the little red bike seemed to know the way of its own accord. Beyond Manly, I was going up another hill (not too far from our beloved Mountjoy Terrace) when I had to stop at the sight of a most beautiful jacaranda tree ahead.

It’s the season for jacaranda trees – October and November. The fallen blossoms cover the ground beneath the trees with “a carpet of blue” and the air is filled with beautiful perfume.

Many moons ago Joseph, my Hungarian boyfriend, wrote me a song called “Jacaranda Tree, Jacaranda Tree” after we had fallen in love one October night when the city was ours and the streets were magically blue. And the memories come back. They came back today and I had a few tears. Joseph died on June 2nd 2014 – a friend of his found my letters and broke the news.

I got on my bike and easily found my way home to Mountjoy Terrace. There was a new facade and a new fence – a high fence to ward off previous owners. A dog barked behind the fence.

“It’s my old house, I was here long before you,” I said gently but firmly.

The dog seemed to be rather empathic – for a dog – and it stopped barking. I heard his paws on the concrete behind the fence as he withdrew and left me to my childhood memories. Once again, I had a few tears and after a while I headed off on my red bike and passed under more jacaranda trees with the blue blossoms and scent of love.

Back at Henry’s place my younger brother suggested we have hamburgers for lunch at Lota, but this time we went in the car… and a very nice lunch it was.