1 November
by Gardener Liv
Turning trees glow like flames across the garden, slowly surrendering the last traces of green, carpeting the ground below with discarded foliage. Carmine red, burnt orange, golden brown. Leaves the colour of fading sunflowers crinkle like old paper beneath the trees. Colours shift, muted one moment then alive the next when flooded by sunlight. The trees drape like cloaks. Above, the autumn sky is a dusty blue, heightening shapes and contrasts. Sprawling branches, stripped of foliage, poke out from leafy froth here and there, revealing their true form, primitive and plain.
The shapes of trees are endlessly varied, each following growth patterns inscribed in their genes - a set of codes dictating their final architecture. Some trees, like Nyssas, spread broadly, while others, like Larches or Cedars, are conical. Some still have a more irregular, ancient formation, like the Ginkgo, the Maidenhair tree, of which two large specimens stand proud between Upper and Lower Woman's Way pond at Sheffield Park.
A distinctive feature of this wonderful tree is, of course, its autumn color. As temperatures drop and chlorophyll drains from the leaves, a rich saffron yellow bleeds into the remaining lime green, like a finely executed graded paint wash. As leaves fall, the branches stand stark against the bright backdrop, their thick, dark boughs and stubby shoots resembling a blanket stitch woven with fan-shaped rosettes. Up close, the Ginkgo appears primal - its thick, cracked trunk punctuated with skinny, jagged branches.
Often called a "living fossil," the Ginkgo is one of the oldest tree species, unique in its solitary genus, Ginkgo biloba. It has no relatives. This may seem like a lonely state of affairs, but luckily the Ginkgo is remarkably resilient, withstanding extremes of temperature, resisting disease, and thriving in polluted environments. It is so tough, in fact, that six Ginkgo trees were found standing near the site of the Hiroshima atomic bomb blast in 1945. Seeds from these trees were propagated, the resulting seedlings then planted in Botanic Gardens and Colleges throughout the world as a living symbol of peace for the generations to come.
The history of the Ginkgo tree is somewhat chequered, though, and hasn’t been without challenges. Despite being widespread in cultivated gardens, arboretums, and city streets globally, the tree is still presently classified as endangered in the wild, with only a few native populations existing in China. In Europe and the Americas, its presence dwindled to nothing during the Cenozoic Era, a time of global cooling that began around 66 million years ago. Competition with other more ‘modern’ trees is likely one of the reasons why Ginkgos have struggled in their other global native habitats more recently.
Remarkably, the Ginkgo survives today largely because humans chose to cultivate it - a tradition that began around a thousand years ago, when people in China planted orchards of Ginkgo biloba to harvest its seeds. In doing so, they fortuitously saved the tree from being wiped out completely. This kind of relationship reflects a broader mutualism found across the planet, where many species benefit one another. It is also a beautiful testament to what can happen when nature and humanity care for one another and highlights the ongoing importance of conservation work.