Ginkgo Leaf Surrender

medical gym sidewalk
medical gym sidewalk

Last night’s freeze made the ginkgo trees give it up, give it ALL up. I woke to bare branches and eddies of golden fans. Did it happen all at once? Did the tree heave a sneeze when the thermometer hit below 30 and then FFHOOOOM! eject every leaf?

Apparently, ginkgos are known for sudden synchronized leaf drop. I sure would love to see it happen. I need to compare it to the Pixar version that lives in my head.

down the street and down on the street
down the street and down on the street

I’ll be hunting down all known ginkgos today, to compare.

After seeing my gym’s tree, I went home and walked down the block to see the ginkgo leaves at Perpetual Yard Sale House. Gone. Not a leaf on a twig. With no leaves, the buds suddenly reveal themselves. I’d forgotten how FAT ginkgo spur shoots are, how wrinkled. Like they’ve been pushed back into the twig till they’re half the original length, but now twice the original width.

I also saw something new: ginkgo babies. Hundreds of ginkgo babies. Each was about 4 inches tall and packed tight in a swath, as if seeds had been strewn in one loopy puddle. I hadn’t noticed fruit on either of the huge trees in Yard Sale House yard, but there must have been. Last year’s seeds? How slowly do these things grow?

I made my camera and myself as obnoxious as I could, hoping to lure Perpetual Yard Sale House guy outside so I could ask about the babies: Are they intentional? How old? What are his plans for their future?

I wish it was in my nature to ring a stranger’s doorbell, but it isn’t, so I’ll be keeping an eye on the nature of these ginkgos from the sidewalk.

ginkgo babies
ginkgo babies in leaf blanket