December 3: Brave little peppervine

In the lot where I park, just off campus, there's a tiny peppervine peeking up through a crack between the asphalt and a concrete pylon that supports an enormous light pole. It's the unlikeliest of places for plant life, but if anything can hack it, I'd guess a peppervine can! I predict that it will be covering half the pylon before maintenance crews notice and "do something about it." Be brave, little peppervine!


It's actually bigger than this now.

December 4: Ginkgo

I was downtown this morning. I don't go there often, but it's really quite pleasant in an urban way. The buildings are attractive, especially the older ones, and there are a lot of well cared for trees on the street. And nowhere is far from the river, which is bordered by parks. If I worked down there I think I'd go to the park for lunch any day the weather was good.



One tree I don't see much in other places (i.e. non-urban) is the ginkgo. Such an amazing tree, really. It has survived since at least as far back as the Jurassic, from before the angiosperms. It has no close living relatives and reproduces more like ferns than like other seed plants. It has fan-shaped leaves that are unique in their non-networked vein pattern. The veins just splay out from the stem. I remember learning in early elementary school that cities liked these trees because they tolerate pollution and improve the air. (It was the kind of fact I would have seized on. How often did I get to hear about trees in school? Not often enough.) They're also disease- and insect-tolerant, and they can be so lovely in the fall. The leaves of the ones I see are an even, pure yellow.