'The Shady Tree. The Tree at the Centre of Town. The Big Fig Tree. The Lovers’ Tree. It had a bunch of names, with different age groups favouring different names. It was an old tree, at least sixty years, and long ago seats had been set up under its massive twisting limbs for a quiet and cool moment in this hot, inland wheatbelt town. Even when the fruits came and fell and stained all around, people sat there. At night ‘the boys’ drank and smoked, sometimes ‘pashed on’ with their girls. During the day the town ‘characters’ would sit, watching all that went by, and waiting for acknowledgement and greeting. Ol’ Bill had right of way—for a good fifty of the sixty years, he’d spent at least an hour every day on one of the seats. The tree was cherished, and was even photographed as part of the authentic heritage look of the town.' (Introduction)
