Ten years ago, I was in the car with my uncle on the way to pick up his wife from her friend’s house. My uncle had never been to the house before and was relying on my aunt to give him instructions on how to get there. The friend lived on a major road in Sydney. It was raining heavily, and visibility was poor. Before getting into the car, my uncle rang my aunt to get directions. The conversation went something like this:
Uncle: ‘I’m on my way to pick you up. Where’s the house?’
Aunt: ‘It’s two houses away from where that big tree bends right over.’
Uncle: ‘That doesn’t help me. What’s the suburb and house number?’
Aunt: ‘I don’t know, but just drive down the highway, and as soon as you see the tree, you’ll know.’
Uncle: ‘Go outside and look at the number.’
Aunt: ‘I can’t. It’s now hailing heavily. Just look for the tree.’
Uncle: ‘There are heaps of trees lining that highway! How am I supposed to find that one?’
Aunt: ‘It’s a lighter shade of green, and the leaves are different from the other trees, and it bends right over.’
My uncle gave a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. See what I have to put up with, my uncle said. And so, we drove up the highway looking for a tree that had leaves a lighter shade than the other trees and was bent right over. In a storm. Visibility almost zero. Slowly. Uncle swearing. Niece looking at every tree through a rain-streaked window.