Another fire-top in my neighbourhood

The vegetative life that is able to spring from the arid red earth here is not only surprising, but breathtaking. For the first two months here, it seemed like every single tree was a Jacaranda - delicate purple feathers of flowers creating canopies over homes, roads, walkways, providing a stark contrast to the film of dust covering cars, bodies, homes and laundry. Carolyn, it was precisely the shade of purple you die for, and every time I actively noticed them I thought of you. With the change of the seasons though, the Jacarandas quickly lost their petals and are now replaced by what I call Fire Trees. I'm completely oblivious to what their actual name is, but now it seems like every Jacaranda was replaced with a Fire Tree. You look up and no longer is it just the red soil that's alight, but the sky too (matching my hair, perhaps?). The fire trees are thick, fluorescent and lush - a highlighter swash on the top of perfect climbing trunks. They remind me of the autumn I exchanged for a second summer, the one I'm now starting to miss. The trees really are spectacular though, and a reminder of what can grow, survive and flourish in very little.