Ginkgo

I know this sounds strange, but, at least in my neighborhood, it's peak leaf season.

The trees in Washington Square Park in the heart of Greenwich Village are in full color. Red, orange, yellow.

The most distinctive are the yellows from the ginkgo trees. In one part of the park this morning, there was a yellow blanket, 40 feet x 40 feet, a carpet of ginkgo leaves. It's as though every leaf caucused last night in the branches and they decided to drop in unison--simply for the effect.

At 6:30 AM this morning, the beautiful, colorful park was quiet and almost empty. Except for me, my dog... and one other woman. An elderly Chinese woman, wearing plastic gloves. She is the last of the season's ginkgo nut collectors. Throughout the fall, small groups of Chinese women gather in Washington Square Park (and in all of the city's parks), sorting through and collecting the ginkgo nuts and putting them into plastic shopping bags.

In Chinese culture, the ginkgo fruit is used as both food and medicine. It's thought to help with circulation, and improve digestion and mental functioning in the elderly. A more popularly known "fact" is that the ginkgo nut, when stepped on on the sidewalk, produces a disgusting smell... like stinky cheese mixed with dog poop. Hence, the gloves.

I love the ginkgo collectors for two reasons: first, the more nuts collected, the fewer nuts there are to step on and foul the air. But mostly, I love the simple idea that even in a city of 9 million, people can stay connected to the land. I laughed this fall when a youth center near our house was holding a "Harvest Festival" for their kids. What the heck were they harvesting? It was a sad reminder of the vast disconnect between modern city-dwellers and the rhythms of creation--rhythms essential to the religiosity of our parents and parents' parents. Tomatoes show up on the shelves in January. We never worry about whether the rains will yield a good crop. We never think to give thanks for abundance... or pray for repentance during lean times.

It's a small thing, but gathering with a small group of friends on a frosty fall morning with plastic bags and rubber gloves to "harvest" fallen ginkgo nuts seems beautiful to me. It's a connection, with bent backs, to the earth and its fruitfulness. Maybe next year, I'll ask to join them.