We moved into our California home in 1990 when our daughter was thirteen years old. The gardens were beautiful. We had heard that the original owner, back in the 60's, had owned a nursery. That explained the variety of plants and trees in the gardens, many that I had never seen before.

 One odd looking tree, in particular, was planted just below our deck. It is now a full-grown, huge tree, so tall that neighbors above us on the hill complain about it blocking their view. It isn't particularly attractive, this tree. Because it provides a stage for birds to perform on, we haven't entertained the idea of removing it. When we awaken in the mornings, on the branches of the tree, just beyond our window, the same little pair of birds welcome the day, chirping sweetly and flirting with each other, fluffing their feathers as they move from branch to branch.

 The leaves on this particular tree are razor sharp. In and of itself, this is a reason for removing the tree. We have had an influx of crows in the past few years. They threaten my small, sweet little birds. The tree is their protection. So, as gangly and unwelcoming as the tree is at a distance, with my morning coffee, from my bed, it seems to belong in the place where it resides. The tree has been here much longer than I have. So the tree stays, my husband and I have decided.  

The tree, I have discovered, is a Bunya Pine tree, Araucaria bidwillii. It is native to Queensland, Australia. One day, not long after we moved into our home, we heard a crashing noise on the roof of our house, followed by a sound that resembled a hard ball, bouncing, and then rolling down the slope of our roof. The object, whatever it was, clanked and crashed onto the ground and rolled away. The winds were high, that day. My husband and I looked at each other; what the heck was that?

 When the winds subsided, we walked out in the garden, past the tree and down the driveway. There, in the curve of the driveway, was one of the most odd, big cannonball-sized objects, with eerie protrusions all along it; it looked like a huge, green pine cone from outer space!

 We later discovered that the Bunya "cones" as they are called, occur in the tree's crown every three years. They can weigh up to 10 or 15 pounds! During the "dropping" season, they can be deadly as they hurl themselves from the highest peak of the tree onto the ground. Yep, no kidding, they could definitely stun you if one hit you; Actually, the cones can be lethal. 

 In New Zealand and Australia, parks where these trees grow are closed during the falling season.  Unlike coconuts, which are stripped from the trees in tourist areas, it would be nearly impossible to remove the cones because the sharp protrusions on the branches and trunk might just shred the would-be tree trimmer!

 The Buna Pine is a revered tree in Australia, cause for a celebration among the Aborigines who feasted on the nuts inside the cone. The cones are in demand today as the seeds are rare and are in short supply for would-be buyers worldwide. The seeds are also still eaten, and touted as a healthy food.   I have promised the cones to nurseries during the next falling season.  They have offered to pay me for them if I will remove them from the cone; I don’t think so!  I’ll be glad to donate them for the cost of the postage.  My hands are a bit precious to me to consider this task!

 One afternoon, several years ago, our daughter stopped by to pick up our grandson who had been visiting us that day. We had enjoyed a beverage on the deck, and toward the end of the day, they readied themselves to leave. Our little five-year-old grandson, rambunctious as five-year-olds are, ran ahead of his mother and us toward the car. The car-park area is just below the Bunya Pine Tree. He stopped to give Grandpa and Grandma a kiss, then headed down the stairs and onto the driveway.  

Just as he began to run down the driveway, we heard the rustling movement, crashing down through the branches of the Bunya Tree. Oh, my God, I thought, it must be one of those cones! "Stop, Kyler," my husband and I called out in unison. Ky stopped in his tracks. About ten feet in front of him, a humongous pod crashed onto the driveway. My husband and I were stunned. Our baby could have been hit and seriously hurt or killed by that thing! We realized that if Ky hadn't stopped just long enough to kiss us good-bye, the day could have ended very differently than it did. As it was, a hug and kiss, just enough time, a few extra seconds, to keep him out of harm’s way, delayed his run down the drive. Those seconds kept him from being very near where huge cone fell.

Since that time, we have taken the time to do some research on the tree. The Bunyas drop their cones in September and October. During the fall and early winter, no one is allowed to play in the garden under the tree. I am also hesitant to let anyone park in the area just below the tree during dropping season. Also, as we drive up the driveway in fall, I look up to be sure nothing is going on in the upper branches!

Although the Bunya Pine is unique and makes quite a statement in the garden, before you plant one, be sure to consider the placement carefully. As they grow extremely high, it is almost impossible without a cherry picker, to remove the pods before they fall. The pods will always be a hazard. If you have a tree that resembles the Bunya, take a close look at the character of the tree. Forewarned is the best strategy to protect your loved ones from the danger of the specie.