“They always die so quickly. Everything but the cherry trees!”

For many years when I was young, my family would bring me to the flower market at Victoria Park to prepare for the new year. I remembered always begging my mother to bring home a tiny cherry tree, a request she had never entertained. The sight of those withered daffodils, gladiolus and pussy willows ending up in the trash had always remained a traumatic experience for my childhood self. The cherry trees, on the other hand, complete with wooden branches and steady roots in the soil, came to me as a much more attractive proposition. I had always dreamed of the day when a tiny tree would find its way to me, plant its feet in our tiny 700 sq.ft apartment, and breathe life into the concrete jungle we call home.

Three years ago I moved into a place in Kennedy Town with T. Despite the brutal 100-step climb up, arriving at the little rooftop terrace upstairs was always a beautifully rewarding moment - a tranquil space I can call my own. It was that year at the flower market that I finally set out to bring a little pot of cherry tree to my terrace. I did my best to welcome my new best pal - I set the pot down on a patch of sun on the terrace, watered the cracking soil, and hoped for the best.

The budding tree bloomed magnificently. When the pink flowers eventually withered, new leaves grew in their place - narrow, curly, and bursting of life. Those, however, fell down too after spring, nor did the tree ever grow up like I hoped it would. Back then I was not aware of the fact that these ill-fated cherry trees were planted with such shallow soil and confined roots in the first place, they were never meant to last long.

A few months later I saw a small sprout coming out of my tiny rooftop farm - I instantly recognised those narrow and curly leaves. When awe eventually moved out of the apartment, we were determined to find a new home for our little miracle, finally settling on a friend’s balcony in Lam Tsuen. “The soil of Tai Po hosts a magical energy,” T said to me, “it’ll definitely grow better than in Kennedy Town.”