Looking for something happy

   Usually by November we have at least some semblance of fall color going on around the Bayou.  Being this far south, our leaf colors pale in comparison of our northern states.  We are lucky to get a few maples and maybe the black gums changing before the leaves drop.  This year with Hurricane Zeta, most of those pretty leaves were ripped from the trees before they changed into their full glorious hues.  So we have to be happy with what we get...popcorn trees.  Those invasive tallow trees are the only thing even trying to brighten the woods line on the horizon.  Right now, I even miss the tallow tree near the pier.  Zeta took that one so there are no pretty red leaves in the yard other than the small, seedling camphor tree.

  It is funny how sometimes you notice things when they are not there instead of when they are.  Across the Bayou, I now realize that the red maples have gone missing.  Due to the distance, I cannot tell if Zeta just took the leaves or if the entire trees have fallen.  Such is the chaos after a storm.  Things seem different.  I seem different.  I am different.  I am tired.  Just tired.

Maybe What Started It All...

  Growing up on a small farm taught me many things.  I use a lot of this knowledge every single day, here on the Bayou.  I will come face to face with some odd problem and it only takes a few moments of retrospect before I remember a similar enigma from far back when I was a kid.  A few more thoughts and the answer is often shown clear.  My problem is solved purely from things learned as a kid.  

  While out doing a bit of yard work this afternoon, I mused that the sapling camphor tree really should be transplanted from its pot into the ground.  The thing has already outgrown the largest pot I have and to be a healthy tree, it needs room to grow.  No problems there but this started me thinking back on camphor trees, the old farmplace and Pop. I had to smile.  It was a camphor tree that sparked an interest in gardening on a full scale.  There was a rather large camphor tree in what we called the "Circle".  This was an area in the center of a large circular driveway that was on the west side of the house.  The area was not actually round but more of a large teardrop shape.  It was a good seventy five feet long by perhaps thirty feet wide.  This area was filled with camellia bushes, roses, golden rain trees and my beloved camphor tree.  The "Circle" was my private "Secret Garden" where I often played in a make-believe, fantasy world.  It was also my place to learn a lot of gardening tips from Pop as I was his "hired" help when it came to caring for his plants there.  The camphor tree was a large, spraddled tree with branches that just begged for climbing.  There was also a neat hole in the middle of a the main trunk where a rat snake lived.  The snake and I became quite friendly with each other but I dared not tell another soul of my friendship as the snake would have surely met its demise.  Snakes had a tendency to eat eggs and baby chicks both of which were part of the livelihood of the family.  But enough about my friend, the snake, and back to the camphor tree.  I mentioned to Pop how much I loved the tree and the scent of its leaves.  With that, he took a notion to teach me how to take cuttings and root new trees.  My very first successful attempt at rooting a plant of any kind was that camphor cutting!  I was fascinated that I could make many more trees simply by trimming branches and rooting them.  To me, a young child of about 6, that was amazing!  I was hooked for life on the captivating world of gardening.

  I find it bewildering that these days not many folks are teaching their kids any useful "tricks of the trade", as Pop used to call these tidbits of information.  You would be hard-pressed to find any youngster or even young adult these days that can identify a camphor tree, yet alone, propagate one.  I use the knowledge gained from the farm on a daily basis and have passed a lot of what Pop taught me along to my kids.  Hopefully, my kids will, in turn, pass it along to theirs.  I understand that not everyone is interested in plants or gardening but it has never hurt anyone to learn new things.  In fact, I strive to learn something new everyday just to keep the brain in good operating condition.  In reality, it only takes one small instance to trigger a passion about doing things.  Then, again, most people (even youngsters) have their noses stuck to some electronic device and have no interest in anything other than some blinky (irritating) screen.  I am glad I grew up on a farm and still live much the same life.