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| The oak at left keeps its leaves through marcescence. The maple at right, not so much. |
Hasn’t it been a lovely fall? Weather-wise, at least. The news, not so much. Still, Monday was sultry and beautiful — I had a fire going in the backyard when my wife came home from work, and we enjoyed a rare November weenie roast. Hot dogs just taste better grilled over an open fire.
Over the past few weeks, when the trees were aflame themselves, all orange and yellow and red, it was almost possible to forget what’s coming. The three months of bitterness and cold. Maybe four. Five, tops.
The leaves are mostly fallen now, the branches quite bare. The bright colors once above us now turned to dun and lining the gutter, a sodden mass.
Except of course for those oaks and beeches and other varieties of trees that are marcescent — not a word that gets in the paper much. Marcescence is the ability of certain trees to hold onto their leaves.
Nobody is sure exactly why they do it. Though scientists have been studying this tree business for a long time, botanists aren’t sure what value marcescence has: perhaps something to do with tree growth, as younger trees tend to be more marcescent than older. Maybe the leaves shield the tender branches from the killing wind. Maybe they provide a second wave of mulch.
Holding on is an undervalued quality. We’re so fixated on fame, we forget about tenacity. Neil Young was wrong: It’s better to fade away than to burn out.
Once you notice them, it’s easy to feel solidarity with those lingering leaves. To cheer them on. There’s a poignant Tom Waits song, “Last Leaf,” where the plucky flat arboreal appendage speaks. “I’m the last leaf on the tree,” it sings. “The autumn took the rest/But they won’t take me.”
Kinda like being among the last regular columnists for a daily newspaper in Chicago. Waits also has a song called “Hold On.” That sounds like a plan. Defy the wind. Sometimes the best you can do is squinch your eyes shut, cling to that branch with all your might, and wait for better days.
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Maybe it’s just something like “Last Leaf Syndrome”, and the trees don’t want to give up on summer. Too bad it doesn’t work.
ReplyDeleteWoke up to the news that Ohio voters overwhelmingly approved a measure to amend the states constitution ! How bout that?
ReplyDeleteTwo measures. Protecting abortion rights and legalizing recreational cannabis for adults. Both received nearly 57% of the more than 3.8 million ballots cast.
DeleteNearly felled when cancer appeared out of nowhere in 1986, I’ve felt like the last leaf for years. Now that age, COVID, and other illnesses have claimed so many, my hold is loosening—especially with another bout with cancer on the immediate horizon.
ReplyDeleteI have always understood it to be a strategy to protect the next year’s buds during the dormant season.
ReplyDeleteAnother nice read to start my day. Thank you. This reminded me of a short story by O. Henry, "The Last Leaf", which I read in high school, but has stayed with me ever since.
ReplyDeleteI must look up the book. As a child, I saw a black and white episode of a series I cannot recall. Back in the day when those were common...I do vaguely recall the Loretta Young show which I loved. But this really hit me as a youngster...the last morning, when the child awoke-oh would he die?! No, as the leaf was there painted by a kindly man..the gardener? I see that black and white image so vividly.
DeleteI will always remember that movie.. saw it in junior high: https://youtu.be/PXPjnNPAeN0?si=Q0QlwtEmvtvkyXcK
DeleteThank you Steve...I just opened up Mr S's column to read that the O Henry readers weighed in big time on this one.
DeleteWish I had known the term "marcescence" and seen Neil's marvelous photos depicting same when I was a failed Boy Scout who couldn't tell a maple leaf from an oak leaf.
ReplyDeletejohn
“Kinda like being among the last regular columnists for a daily newspaper in Chicago.” Wow. That line gave me pause.
ReplyDeleteMarcescence! Thank you! Now I've read the Wikipedia article on the subject. I want to learn more about trees and Merlin Sheldrake's Entangled Life and Peter Wohlleben's The Hidden life of Trees are both on my "For Later" shelf at the library.
ReplyDelete"The Last Leaf" was a 1963 song by the Cascades, who also did "Rhythm of the Rain" that same year. "The last leaf clings to the bough...just one leaf...that's all there is now." Maybe somebody else remembers it.
ReplyDeleteAlways the last one to leave parties and taverns, I was called a diehard and other less than flattering names. If I could turn back time, I might change my last name to Marcesencenent.
ReplyDeleteLast Christmas a friend gave me a "Word of the Day" calendar, which I enjoy like nobody's business. Nearly the end of the year and it hasn't mentioned marcescence. Today's word is diseuse, defined as a woman who is a skilled and usually professional reciter. I'll try to work that into conversation when I go the tavern later today.
ReplyDelete"I am not afraid / I won't burn out in this place / My intention is to fade / And I will, I will" -- from The Pretty Reckless song "House on the Hill" by Ben Phillips and Taylor Momsen
ReplyDeleteThank you thank you. Im now 79 and live every minute of every day as if........readingband fast walking and traveling ( and prscticing law still- economic necessity)and , recently, again reading short stories to encourage myself to start doing it again and this time get much better at it.
ReplyDeleteHaven't read O Henry in years.
But today I read the Last Leaf.
Just finished, and tears are coming fast.
I'll not put the book back on the shelf for a while.