Thursday, May 1, 2008
Astonishing to realize how many trees could dig in and start growing each spring, if the city wasn't so paved over. Because there's no ground for the seeds to root into, they stick to windshields, clog the gutters, gather in between the bricks on the pavements.
Soft rains and breezes during the last few days have set loose at least a zillion helicoptor tree seeds. When they fall, it's always a bunch of them all at once. They fall in a flurry, as if someone in the tree had released a huge fistful of confetti. Who doesn't love watching them descend, each seed spinning around and around? The descent of the helicoptor seeds is as dazzling as the fluttering cherry blossoms, though not nearly as delicate.
Can you imagine how many times I've tried to capture this magical phenomenon with the vid camera? My timing is always off, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. Yesterday I decided that it's silly to try. Better to stand still, open my eyes and enjoy the moment instead.
I wonder what is the botanical name of these seeds? Are they elm, maple? Could they be oak seeds? Wait, oaks release acorns, so it couldn't be the oaks. Though I'm not sure which tree produces the clouds of helicoptor blades, I do connect deeply with the energy of this phenomenon. L'chaim, ya'all. Oh yeah!