Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Maybe They Migrated

I love autumn. The leaves here in western Pennsylvania are truly beginning to turn. Yesterday, when I walked to the post office, I was almost stunned by the beauty of the locust tree in the town park, right next to the p.o.'s flagpole. The sky was that lovely shade of blue you hardly ever see except in September/October, and the small leaves on the tree shimmered like golden coins.

The maple by the town gazebo is also blushing from the top down. A carrot top! There are several maples bunched together there, but one of them almost always turns first, and it's currently a blaze of rich, mellowy orange.

One of the advantages of living in so small a town is that you get to know the individual trees so well they fell like old friends. That's why I was shocked to realize the other day that the beautiful ginkgo trees by the public library are gone.

I don't know how I missed this fact. There were three (I think!) lovely ginkgos there for years, their skinny, knobby trunks rising like church spires. The fan-shaped leaves are beautiful when green, but especially noticeable in fall when they turn a perfectly pale yellow. They make wonderful leaf piles to play in, soft and slippery. The sweet girl played in those piles more times than I can count when she was a toddler/preschooler, and we always brought yellow ginkgo leaves home for the table.

We came out of the back door of the library last week and headed for the sidewalk. I had just opened my mouth to say "let's see if the ginkgos have started turning yellow yet" when I stopped, my mouth practically still open, and stared at the spaces where ginkgo trees used to be. Someone must have cut them down in spring or summer (though how we failed to notice this is beyond me) and really rooted them out, stumps and all. We were able to find the still slightly bare patches where the stumps used to be, but just barely.

"Where did they go?" I found myself asking stupidly, and after a thoughtful minute, the sweet girl replied, with a giggle, "Maybe they migrated!"

We had fun amusing ourselves the rest of the way home, imagining the skinny ginkgos stalking around like long-legged storks (I can't wait till we get to Tolkien and the sweet girl becomes acquainted with Ents) but I must confess I'm still in mourning. I wish now that I'd taken photos of those beautiful trees. I miss the delicate yellow fans that used to decorate our fall table.

I feel sad to think of them being cut down. I'd rather imagine them winging their way through October blue skies headed who knows where for the winter.

2 comments:

Erin said...

What a beautiful post, Beth. I sense you are in a very poetic mood at the moment - "the small leaves on the tree shimmered like golden coins," "the maple by the gazebo is also blushing from the top down," "skinny, knobby trunks rising like church spires"... Really brought a smile to my face! I'm sorry, though, to hear that the trees are gone. :( That's such a shame. But I do love the image of them soaring across the sky! I'll keep my eye out for flying trees on my way to work today... ;)

Beth said...

Erin, you sense correctly. :) I think my poetic mood started when I was reading Billy Collins last month, but it's continued this month with some other poetry reading. I think because I am so tired and so busy with academic reading right now, poetry feels like such a blessed relief to fall into. I've been playing a bit with writing more too -- in fact, that may be the next post here (though I'm not getting here very often these days...sigh).

Anyway, glad you enjoyed the poetic post. Do let me know if the gingkos fly by!!