Vellum? Onion? Succulent? Fabric? Leather?
My Texture Identifier™ whirrs inconclusively for a few minutes before figuratively shrugging. It can’t quite peg what this leaf feels like: Different, anyway. Not, in fact, like a leaf at all, especially in the fall when I expect leaves to be stiff, crinkled, dry. To crackle when stepped upon, for goodness sake, not to lie there quietly, all silent stealthiness.
But as odd as it is, the texture is not the first surprise. On my way into the nearby Big but Not-Beautiful Box Store I’d noticed the tree because of its strong-yellow leaves: not a big surprise at this season but notable nonetheless . . .
. . . but what really caught my eye was their fan shape.
From somewhere in the recesses of my brain my Tree Identifier™ half-remembers that shape and says, tentatively, “Ginkgo?”
An hour later, my question becomes a statement as Google serves up leaf images unmistakably the same as the four leaves I had grabbed off the ground at random. I had also inadvertently collected physical evidence of the variable bifurcation of the leaves noted by this site, among others. Variable bifurcation sounds all botanico-technical but it just means that some leaves are notched, some are not, and in the former the depth of the notch varies.
Bifurcation (L to R): None, some (x 2), and quite a bit.
If you haven’t seen a ginkgo tree near your local Big but Not-Beautiful Box Store, you might be thinking they’re some newfangled, johnny-come-lately tree. Quite the opposite.
Ginkgo biloba is the last remaining relative of the Ginkgoales, a group of ancient plants inhabiting earth during the Permian, almost 300 million years ago.
– Bamboo Plants
For a long time they were known only from the fossil record. As a living species, they became known to European botanists in 1691 when Engelbert Kaempfer saw them in Japan, where Buddhist monks cultivated them in their gardens. In addition to my neighbourhood ginkgo, in North America you can see fossilized trees from 15 million years ago in Ginkgo Petrified Forest State Park (in Washington state), and a still-living tree brought from Japan in 1785 (in Bartram’s Garden, Philadelphia), now celebrating the 240th anniversary of its transplantation. That sounds pretty old to someone who grew up in Alberta with poplars as the default tree with their lifespan of 30 to 50 years for the typical local species, but ginkgos laugh at a mere 240 years. They can live up to 3,000 years.
If you happen to be within the ginkgo’s hardiness range and would like to plant one, choose a male tree.
The ripened fleshy seed covering has a very disagreeable odor, similar to that of rancid butter, and can be a slipping hazard on paved surfaces, making the female tree less popular for garden planting. – Britannica
“Less popular”. Ah, the understated-ness of the British: it never fails to impress. Just like the amazing stuff you can find in an otherwise nondescript parking lot.
One of the botanical joys of working at Hart House Theatre in the University of Toronto were the two gingo trees at the front of the Hart House building that turn golden in the fall. They may be male because I do not recall a slipping hazard. When I lived in Toronto, I would see others from time to time. Surely, they are among the most delightful of trees.
Laurna – We could start a Google map of ginkgo sightings! To go along with my (sadly small) list of bakeries selling rugelach.
I like yellow!
Good research, too. Not sure if Calgary isn’t well beyond its hardiness range. If I ever see one, box-store-parking or not, I will let you know.
Judith – I had heard something about Alberta hardiness zones being upgraded, and the AI Overview agrees with that. Apparently Calgary used to be 3a/b and is now rated as 4a. That’s within the ginkgo’s range (4a and 4b), but the potentially confounding thing with Calgary is the number of micro-climates and the (negative) impact of Chinooks on winter survivability. It would be interesting to see if someone has taken the plunge in a sheltered location.
Hi Isabel — yes, the ginkgo — did you see it in the South Keys parking lot? I considered buying one in the early stages of my landscaping but was deterred by the smell, and the price, as I recall. But in any case, my larch tree needles are turning coppery-gold so that’s exciting! And you can just look out your window!
Marilyn – Yes, it was at South Keys. I didn’t check whether there was more than one, but it seems likely. I guess the smell of rancid butter might affect your enjoyment of your outside space . . .
Is that Big but Not Beautiful boxstore a chain?
Tom
Tom – 🙂 Not by that name, oddly.
I noticed months ago a particular shape stripped out of John’s mat board table covering. I knew immediately it was the gingko shape and now you find some in the flesh, as it were. The leaf is a wonderful shape, but kinda like leaves started out, before they knew what leaves were supposed to look like.
Barbara – 🙂 The shark of leaves, eh? Successful enough not to have changed much, even while others took a different path altogether.
Isabel – so if the original Gingko tree was imported to North America from Japan lo those many years ago, does that not make the Gingko an invasive species??
The Japanese Knotweed was also imported to North America because it was thought attractive for landscaping purposes. Unfortunately it spreads like, well a weed, and it chokes out every other type of vegetation it overgrows. The Japanese Knotweed is definitely classed as an invasive species both here in Canada and the US.
John – You make a good point. I’m guessing that ginkgos grow and spread slowly enough that they’re only foreign, not invasive. But who knows? The Scots label the rhododendron (brought back by Victorian explorer-naturalists) as invasive and thousands of volunteers work to root it out of their few remaining stands of old-growth forest. Boo transplantation!