On December 4, I stumble upon winter flowers.
Near the entrance of Arnold Arboretum, white blossoms with pinkish hue hum with honeybees. The Fuji cherry tree buds out of season.
The arboretum bursts with beauty.
I slip into its wild trees and hidden playgrounds.
Wandering off the path, I duck into the world of yews.
Taller yews throw out the arms of their branches in a hug. I dip and duck in between this sandwich of branches, just waiting for the tree to yell, “Gotcha!” Shorter yews grow nearby, like a twisted spider web, shooting out instead of up. The artful weave of their arms knits so tightly all sunshine is kept from the ground. I am cocooned here, and hidden from the world.
Ambling down the Beech Path, I make sure to stop by Grandma Beech, my favorite tree. I love her for the way she does this glorious back arch with all of her leaves and branches cascading to the ground.
A parasol beech, Grandma Beech is a variant of the European beech (read about her here). Wandering around the premise, I discover two more baby parasol beeches, growing like an umbrella from the ground: thick stem with a masterful dome protecting it. I slither near the ground to find their tag and confirm that, yes, they are a European beech.
Weeping Common Juniper
As I bushwhack beyond the yews, I find myself surrounded by junipers. Their needles seem to dance off their branches.
Mesmerized by their make-up, I turn the corner to behold: the weeping common juniper, cascading like the world’s most gorgeous green chandelier. In an austere autumn arboretum, this tree sends down branch after branch of lush-green limbs, with the small needles delicately coming off of it. The thick sight of dripping green branches reminds me of beaded curtains. I feel like I could just peel back one of the layers to reveal a secret world.
However, as a testimony to its order, it neatly stops growing all branches two feet from the ground. A perfect chandelier, indeed.
That’s some of the magic going on in my life.
What is the magic going on in yours?