Ginkgos develop a leaf shedding layer, or abscission zone, all at once, so at the first hard frost, they rain to the ground in a saffron shower.
My husband, Jack, and I have a running bet — of a dollar — on the timing of “The Great Gingko Leaf Dump,” checking the gingko tree we encounter on our walk to work to see who will win.
Ginkgos are also known as maidenhair trees because their leaf veins radiate out in long parallel strands. Their separated leaf tips create the form of twin Japanese fans, hence the scientific name, Gingko bioloba, or "two lobes."
Their ancestors existed during the Jurassic epoch, coexisting with dinosaurs over 170 million years ago. People have cultivated gingkos for more than 3,000 years, and because they are resistant to disease and drought, they grow well in urban settings like Salt Lake City.
They also have separate male and female trees. Because the pulp that covers the seeds of female tree smells horribly putrid — not something you want to encounter on a stroll — city planners have to be careful about which individuals they plant.
And yet, over 800 mature female trees line the streets of our nation’s capital. So, how do they deal with the stinky fruits? Washington D.C. has a special license from the Environmental Protection Agency to spray those female ginkgos with a chemical that prevents their fruits from maturing. Happily, it's harmless to humans.
As the days grow colder, Jack and I will be watching our gingko every day. Whoever wins that dollar, we’ll both enjoy witnessing those leaves shedding in a symphony of gold.
