Birmingham, AL: Mulberries

 

Mulberries, George Ward Park, Glen Iris, Birmingham, Alabama. April 2021.

Now that the cold winter has finally slunk away, every day in this springtime gives my soul bounce. 

When I spied the mulberries on the park path yesterday, oh sweetness! 

How they took me back to another welcome spring - in Rustavi, Caucasus Georgia:

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Georgia: The Tutebi are Here

Rustavi, Georgia. White tuta (mulberry)

There are black tutas and white tutas. In the plural, they are tutebi.

Mulberries! Beloved here. They do taste good.


The black tutas have peaked, I think, and all that I found at one tree were those which had fallen onto the ground.

Rustavi, Georgia. Black tuta (mulberry)

I had a mulberry tree in Missouri, but never saw any fruit. Evidently, it was a male, therefore fruitless.

Rustavi, Georgia. White tuta (mulberry)

 

 

El Paso: Sunset Heights: Yellow Bird of Paradise

Yellow bid of paradise, Sunset Heights, El Paso, Texas. April 2017.

April 2017

Around the corner from my place is a low-slung, butterscotch adobe house that's easy to walk by without noticing, but when you do notice it, you think, "Gosh, that's a pretty house."

I pass it most days when I go to continuing ed classes at UTEP. 

Yellow bid of paradise, Sunset Heights, El Paso, Texas. April 2017.

One late April day, the flashy yellow and red tree in the house's side yard called me over to say, "Hey, I am one good-looking tree, am I not?" And I said, "Oh yeah, you are a handsome one. Can I take your picture"? And like a Georgian, he said, "But of course!"

Yellow bid of paradise, Sunset Heights, El Paso, Texas. April 2017.

Yellow bid of paradise, Sunset Heights, El Paso, Texas. April 2017.

Yellow bid of paradise, Sunset Heights, El Paso, Texas. April 2017.

El Paso: Chinaberry on a Blue Plate

Chinaberry tree, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

February 2017


I was walking, hopefully in the right direction, to El Paso's Black History Parade when I saw them.

Chinaberry tree, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Of course, I didn't know what "they" were when I saw them, and I had to look them up after I got home.

Chinaberry tree, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Chinaberry trees!

Chinaberry tree, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Against a brilliant blue sky, the crinkly, yellow fruits hung like flirty earrings from leafless branches.

Chinaberry tree, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Chinaberry tree, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Chinaberry tree, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Look at the decorative bark, like a cocoa-and-vanilla batik. If I were standing there now, I'd stroke it to feel the textured design. 

Chinaberry tree, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

El Paso: UTEP: Purple Grape Extravaganza

Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

What a visual and olfactory feast when walking on the UTEP campus in March!

Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

For some, the feast included the taste of nectar, as below.

Another admirer, human, told me she thought the flowers smelled like grapes.

Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

The lavishness of the Texas mountain laurel displays was almost obscene. Come look at me! Touch me! Smell me!

I succumbed.

Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

The violet carpenter beetles gorged on the sweet banquet.

Violet carpenter beetle on Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

Violet carpenter beetle on Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

Violet carpenter beetle on Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

Violet carpenter beetle on Texas mountain laurel, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. March 2017.

Opelousas: Magnolia Fruit

Magnolia fruit, Opelousas, Louisiana. October 2015.

On the campus of the St. Landry Catholic Church, on the corner where Union Street takes a 90-degree turn, across the street from the "Turkey Neck Dinner" diner, is a magnolia tree.

Magnolia fruit, Opelousas, Louisiana. October 2015.

In October, its fruit laid among the fallen leaves, mulch, and a bottle or three of pocket-size Seagram's.

Magnolia fruit, Opelousas, Louisiana. October 2015.

Magnolia fruit, Opelousas, Louisiana. October 2015.

Magnolia fruit, Opelousas, Louisiana. October 2015.

Magnolia fruit, Opelousas, Louisiana. October 2015.

Magnolia fruit, Opelousas, Louisiana. October 2015.

Opelousas: Bottle Gourds at the Creole Heritage and Folklife Center

Bottle gourds in tree, Creole Heritage and Folklife Center, Opelousas, Louisiana. August 2015.

I was mighty impressed by the bottle gourds growing in this tree in the Creole Heritage and Folklife Center's back yard.

Louisiana State Arboretum: Fringe Tree in Spring

At least I think this is a fringe tree:

Possibly a fringe tree, Louisiana State Arboretum. April 2015.

When I visited the Louisiana State Arboretum in April, the tree was in full bloom. It looks ethereal in this photo.

Opelousas: The Fall of a Blessed Tree

Blessed tree, Opelousas, Louisiana. June 2015.

Once upon a time, I read a magazine article by a man whose hobby was to travel to different parts of the world while history was being made in those exact parts. When the Berlin Wall fell, for example, he scooped up his kids and they flew to Berlin from the US to be witnesses.*

I've often thought about that practice, it's damn cool, but how many of us have the means to do the same? Not me.

Well, not me on such a large stage.

But I can be a witness to some historic events, and the recent fall of a blessed pecan tree was one of them. When I say blessed, I mean the Virgin Mary appeared in this tree during the 1970 and 1990s, prompting many folks to visit the backyard of a house on Larry Street, where the pecan tree stood.

Blessed tree, Opelousas, Louisiana. June 2015.

I read about the tree in this Opelousas Daily World article: A Dramatic Final Act for a Famous Local Tree, by Cheryl Devall.

I couldn't get over there for a few days, and I was a little worried that it'd be all chopped up by the time I did get there. But it wasn't, and I was even able to chat with the owner's caregiver and grown daughter.

Blessed tree, Opelousas, Louisiana. June 2015.

And the daughter let me take a stick that came from the blessed tree. Personally, I don't put much truck in these kinds of things, but I don't demean them, either. Blessed sticks are no less magical than nutritional supplements, juicing cleanses, or Warren Buffett, and we know all those things to be holy. 

It feels good to have this stick from a tree beloved by many people, and some day I'll come across someone who needs it.  

Blessed tree, Opelousas, Louisiana. June 2015.

I like the intimacy between the sacred and mundane in the picture above - a holy tree with pretty offerings, next to a stubby, cheery barbecue grill. There's a little flavor of the magical realism in One Hundred Years of Solitude, where the impossible and the possible get along just fine.

There's nothing I can add to what the article covered, except for one thing: I asked the daughter if it had been a good pecan producer in its day, and the immediate response was a chortled no!

I am pleased to offer a cat pic (!) on this blog, thanks to the blessed tree visit. She bewitched me into taking her photo and publishing it here, that green-eyed temptress: 

Opelousas cat on Larry Street. June 2015.

*This reminds me of a sci-fi story where people from the future came to the past and rented rooms in a - let's call it a form of airbnb - house somewhere in Italy. They knew this particular house in this city in this country would have a commanding view of the sun going supernova or something, and they wanted first row seats. .... Then there's The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, one of the books from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, where people can travel far (really, really far) into the future, just before the universe collapses, but have a good meal first.