It seems like just the other day, but in reality it’s many, many months ago, possibly even a couple of years ago, that I started to write a blogpost with the title of the one I wrote now, “Friends in faraway Places.”
Where I am now, on the Isle of Wight, is one of the places I have friends. Two friends, Alfred and Arthur. They both stand in the grounds of the largest equestrian center on the Island, set in 50 acres. “They” are not statues that stand, but are living, breathing, and growing creations of Nature, that we call trees.
The equestrian center with its welcoming grounds, houses a restaurant and 10 holiday cottages, one of which we were renting on our first visit to the Island. My “friends” stood about 50 yards away, beyond the fenced backyard and past the rock gravel service lane, where we parked our car, and used the backyard gate, to enter into the house from the back. They were in fenced grounds with a play area and other trees.
One of the trees that attracted my attention and my affection was the taller and larger of the two that stood not far from each other. I thought just of him as my friend, when I looked at it from my first floor bedroom’s window. I liked looking at it, and now thinking about it, makes me smile with joy. “Alfred” I said to myself, that’s the name I have for him, in honor of Alfred Lord Tennyson who lived on the island, and who’s hoise and grounds we visited a day or two earlier.
Then, a couple of days later, I went down to meet Alfred, wanting to have my picture taken with it. I opened the gate of the fence, and smiling walked towards it. We spoke for a bit, and generally hung out. You could say we spoke in silence, but I also communicated with words. Took Alfred’s photo, said au revoir and then walked to this other tree which stood not too far away, maybe about 10 yards away. Even as I walked towards it, I felt a connection. That’s the thing about attraction and connection, it can happen quite unexpectedly and quite suddenly. Even though “Arthur” was not as perfect. Not in canopy, nor in gait, and definitely not in its roughly ill proportioned bark, which covered its trunk.
So that was that. How I thought of Alfred and Arthur today, was because I was trying to plan a visit to see them. That’s when I realized that it’s not just with trees, but with some people too, we just speak in silences. Not necessarily friends, but those that have the potential to be, or not be. And why should they be? Some, you may not want to be friends with, in the orthodox way friendship is thought about.
There has to be a different perspective when considering friendships. And it can be devoid of any sense of committal. That would be, I think the most satisfying and cordial kind of relationship. No expectations, no possibility of betrayal, and definitely no commitment. That’s a perfect way to define my relationship with Alfred and Arthur. Arthur, honoring Kind Arthur of the round table, by the way, was a fitting name to be associated with Alfred, which invoked the Poet Laureate, Alfred Lord Tennyson. They both, these two friends, stand in an island far away, far from my usual areas of geographical existence, their proximity in my mind is the only place where our relationship exists.
This geographical proximity can be translated into social proximity in terms of such oddly aligning relationships with other humans. People who move in different social environments. These are people we speak with in glances in passing, and even in silences. Sometimes in casually passing remarks, such as a greeting or nod of the head. Mostly silence, when our paths cross with theirs in some infrequent public setting. While they may be human, we cannot call this a friendship, that’s the complexity of us humans.
However, I never ever shy from thinking of Alfred and Arthur as my friends. In my heart, I know for sure, neither do they. They certainly don’t complain if I’ve not visited them.
My other very dear friend, is Bláthnaid, spelled differently sometimes, and meaning ‘little flower.’ She stands on a street in Dublin, right by the river, and across the street from a grove of slightly older trees, but to old as in mature. Blathnaid on the other hand, was slender and very young indeed, as if she had just come into her prime, and this was her first time flowering, as she was rich with white blossoms hanging heavy on her branches exuded out from her imperfect canopy. I used to watch her from the window of our hotel room on the other side of the river. A bridge was conveniently placed just outside our hotel’s entrance, connecting this side of the river to the street on the opposite banks. Of course, I went to meet Blathnaid, and take a photo with her. I had already take several photos from the hotel room window.
It was very fortunate that I went to Dublin three times that year, and each time stayed in the same location. Blathnaid was there. Our bond grew, as on my subsequent visits I looked forward to spot her as soon as my taxi turned the corner to arrive at the hotel. I remember exclaiming in joy as my happiness would be evident on my face.
Had a great dinner as always, at The Red Lion in Freshwater. Joe the 5th Banga, had joined us for part of our vacation. Had come for lunch on Sunday, the day after arriving. It’s our favorite eatery on the IOW, and has kept its Michelin status for the last 10 consecutive years. Joe heads back stateside tomorrow due to his earlier commitments, while we continue our vacation for the rest of the week. It was an early birthday dinner, just so we could bring Joe to The Red Lion again. And we will go one more time before concluding our vacation this summer.
After dinner we walked on the seafront of Colwell Bay, along the promenade lined with brightly painted Beach Huts. The sun had already set, and the sky reflected the hues of a satisfying summer’s day. Soon, the orange hued apricot steaks in the sky, with it’s blues of various hues, gave way to dusk, as the lighthouse twinkled in the distance on the mainland which is clearly visible from this point of the Island. A few kids were fishing at the far end of the promenade, the Needles with their whiteness bravely holding its own in the fast gathering darkness. A couple of girls were in the water with phones in hand. From a little further away, music and voices partying were heard from a boat moving further out to sea. It was a perfect end of a lovely day.
In the morning I had sat outside admiring the different flowering plants, with honeybees buzzing away, drinking the nectar and I wondered where and how far their hive would be. This cottage is set in beautiful woods, with a pond almost around the corner. Yesterday, I saw a duck there, a mallard I think. Came back to our cottage and mucked around a bit. Came down to get some water, as was feeling sleepy. Then remembered my friends and started to write. It’s almost 1:00 am and at midnight my Birth Day started. I’m not sure I’ll e up to see the sunrise, as I had wanted to. Maybe I will, except the bedroom window looks out west. We shall see. Meanwhile, Happy Birthday to me.
Veenu Banga
May 27th, 2026
12:57 am @ the IOW
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