Katsura tree

     No matter how many times I visit the Chicago Botanic Garden, I always notice something new. Friday afternoon — sunny, mild, in the mid-60s — it was this katsura tree, caught by the afternoon light in full autumnal splendor.  I'd swear I've never seen it before. One of only two members of its family, cercidiphyllaceae, so named because the leaves, apricot-colored in fall, look like those of a redbud, cercis, though the two are not related.
     The katsura hails from Asia. An ancient Chinese legend places a katsura tree on the moon. As the "katsura man" prunes it, the moon wanes (I haven't found an explanation of what happens when the moon waxes — maybe the leaves grow back). 
    Though Asian cultures tend not to put men on the moon, in the Western fashion, but rabbits. As to why the rabbits don't trim the tree, since they're there, well, nobody says these myths must be consistent. 
     Wood from the katsura tree is used to make Go and chess boards, for its warm hue and beautiful grain, like ripples from a pebble thrown into a pond. 

     Tree experts praise the katsura for being interesting to look at in all four seasons, even in winter, due to "handsome winter branch architecture." I'll have to make sure to circle back and confirm that. The scent of the leaves in autumn is also said to smell like caramel, or cotton candy, or "freshly baked muffins." I photographed the leaves up close, but didn't know enough to come in close and take a whiff. Now I do; good reason to go back to the Botanic Garden soon, as if another reason were needed.