1. There was a contest in my neighborhood. Guess which date all the leaves will simultaneously fall from the Ginko? My guess. Aunt Mildred’s birthday. 11/11/11.
2. 5minutesinatree wearing waterproof, purple coat, swirly scarf, and hat needing a band. Two birds, one spotted, vocalized a half dozen notes before a leaf blower, the most useless device I can imagine, aaaarrrrrred them away.
3. Photo of blue glass, upright noodles, on my screen for one year. I titled it, then, bluettes.
4. The one comfortable stop on my son’s tour of the Catholic high school was the art department. A long-haired, heavy-set boy, not chosen as a tour guide, pressed lines into a sheet of copper with a wooden dowel. I made those when I was in school, I said. What did you make? A tree.
5. Mother took us roaming a high school campus. Each small paper bag filled up with leaves. Mine were mostly yellow fans.
6. How long I have loved trees? Since I hung upside down in our dogwood, my pigtails brushing the dirt, or maybe before then.
7. The copper tooling moment made me think of bluets. For me, it’s trees. Not always green.
8. Aunt Mildred’s picture, at 80, hangs on my refrigerator. I greet her most mornings.
9. November 10, 2017 issue of Atlantic Magazine published, “The Great Gingko Leaf Dump is Here,” explaining that, unlike other deciduous trees, the Gingko prepares itself for winter by developing scars between the leaves and the stems. The scars simultaneous appearance means that come first frost, all leaves drop.
10. Although a marginal painter, and the black sheep of his prominent Kentucky family, my father was good at drawing trees. I used his technique in copper tooling. He tacked my tree to a piece of walnut, and hung it on our family room wall. The carpet beneath was ugly green.
11. I never fell from a tree and broke a bone. I did break one planting daffodils.
12. Maggie Nelson makes a lot of sense about blue. I find the f-ing mixed in with all the lovely blue –unsatisfying.
13. There is no time of year when a tree is past its peak.