Jill and I grew up with very different stories told to us as children.
Her parents weren’t world travelers and she must have gotten that from somewhere inside herself.
I, on the other hand, grew up with stories of traveling everywhere, whenever possible, however possible, and whyever possible (a new word I just made up).
My grandparents once bought a Volvo station wagon, in Sweden, and then drove all the way down to India.
If I remember this correctly, this was in 1960s or 1970s. Incidentally, I took my driver’s license test in that wagon and passed it on the first try. It was a boxy, blue 240. A classic.
I, therefore, remember stories my grandparents would tell me about driving through Turkey, in their volvo station wagon, and ending up parked, on the side of some mountain, with a bunch of Turkish truck drivers, and dancing all night long.
I was raised to believe that traveling was the norm, not the exception, and that staying at home was somehow a strange choice for our family.
Because of these trips, my grandparents always had interesting artifacts around their house: Indian sculptures and statues of gods, photographs and paintings from all over the world, and jewelry from their travels.
My grandmother had a lot of jewelry with Nazars on them. This was, according to Turkish myth, to ward of the Evil Eye and protect people.
So, when I saw this tree, with all these amazing Nazars on it, I immediately thought of her and took a picture.
I thought we had taken pictures with us sitting in the chair but I guess we did not.
That just means we have to go back and visit this amazing tree sometime in the future!
I think my grandma and grandpa would approve.