Every year, as this tree outside the
science building on the university
campus I still think of as mine
releases its gold bounty, I make
a mini pilgrimage to stand beneath it
and wonder who comes with what
implement and makes perfect circles
around the ginkgo’s strong center, turning
the leavings into leafy sculpture.
Every hour more little fans flutter
and join their grounded brethren,
gradually obscuring the pattern
that I see today has spokes radiating
around the circles—an ode to the sun
that has been a stranger for a good
two weeks? Or is it merely the fancy
of the one I imagine who applies
the rake and those who resist
collecting the fallen? Perhaps
they do so in silent acknowledgment
of the hard work of this living,
breathing being, who, I suspect,
has no idea how stunning
it is, who, like so many,
humbly does what it does, with
no expectation of adulation
or applause.
Güd wrtr 
How wonderfully, magically whimsical. Even the Latin name, Ginkgo biloba, (which comes from Japanese gin kyo, meaning “silver apricot” owing to the appearance of the tree’s quarter-sized cones, and Latin bi loba, meaning “two lobes” from the shape of the leaves) sounds like an ancient incantation of natural mysteries!
There is a wonderful 7,000-acre preserve near Vantage, Washington, called Ginkgo Petrified Forest State Park where thousands of enormous mineralized tree trunks, along with more delicate branches, bark, and leaves can be found. The area was covered by ash and lava during eruptions of Miocene flood basalts about 15 million years ago, resulting in the petrification of entire forests. The tree specimens, now exposed along the Columbia River by glacial floods at the end of the Ice Age, are incredibly well preserved and strikingly beautiful–another example of the ginkgo’s uniqueness.
Wow! I did not know about Ginkgo Petrified Forest State Park… where it must be glorious just before all those leaves fall. And I did not know the Latin bi loba, which is, of course, a perfect description of those leaves. Thank you, Terry!
I think I unintentionally misled you: the modern preserve resides within a desert on the breaks of the Columbia River, and nary a living ginkgo (or, for that matter, any species of tree) is to be found. All the ginkgo remains are petrified, though quite colorful in the polished cross sections displayed at the visitor center or where partially-buried broken trunks are exposed. However, they pale next to your photos of the tree showing out in golden fall adornment. The entire former forest was suffocated by volcanic ash then subsequently knocked over by flood basalt lavas that covered most of southeastern Washington between 8 and 15 million years ago. Thus, petrified trees, leaves, branches, twigs, and cones are entirely horizontal and scattered throughout those amazing 7,000 acres and are primarily embedded in ash deposits. Some of the larger ginkgo logs, being now entirely made of stone, have weights that range between one and two tons and require a crane to move.