little trees

My hubz (Kurt) and I live in our little city of 38,000, in a residential area that we lovingly describe as upscale sketch. It is a mix of home owners and renters, both of whom defy definition. Some lovely historic homes and duplexes kept to a decent standard, amidst children playing in the one way street and the weekly trash cans left at the curb, in spite of the city ordinance to tuck them back on your property 24 hours after trash pick up. Like little green sentinels lining the sidewalk. Our home is the historic home, the first one built in hundreds of acres back in 1982. It is a large lot, but it is a city lot nonetheless. And we love it here. We love the sound of the kids playing, bouncing basketballs, trumpet and drum practice, all manner of dogs barking, a few wandering neighborhood cats. 

Our lot is surrounded by lush green. Some would call it overgrown and unsightly. Perhaps it is. But we are dismayed by the ever decreasing wildness in a land of manicured lawns. It is also awe-striking to see what will pop up if allowed some room. Herbs for medicine and tea grow spontaneously (good to have an acupuncturist/herbalist in the family).

We like to let our yard grow. The neighbor across the road, our friend C, has been mowing the lawn of this house through several owners, so we decided to keep up the tradition. He isn't able to get to it as frequently as most people like, and that is fine with us. 


Right now, there are trees growing in the back yard. I asked Kurt what they were and he said, "Well, they are persimmon trees." WHAT????!!!!????? I knew we had 5 persimmon trees on the property that were full grown but didn't know these little seedlings were persimmon.

Handy, eh?

Persimmons are a native tree in Indiana. So am I. Persimmon trees need a male and female tree to germinate and only the female trees produce fruit. The fruit is best after a freeze, but you may lose all the ripe ones that have fallen if you wait. So, don't wait. Put your white persimmon catching sheets on the ground and pick them up daily. One of the easiest fruits to harvest, using this method. 

I love the persimmon tree. So much rich metaphor in its stately reality. From the balance of yin/yang needed to bring new life, to the perfect timing of readiness, to the way they continue to populate and grow if given a chance.

We are this. We, humans, need a balance of the masculine/feminine in each of us to mature into well-formed beings. It is a lifelong task and so richly sweet in the rewards. 

It is true that the next time C mows the lawn, those little trees will be shaved off, but not without depositing little persimmon-ness into the soil. So we give thanks to the Persimmon. We give thanks to the insects that flicker at night, the two snakes that keep rodents from the house. We give thanks for the birds that bring seeds from many places and plant them for our later discovery. We give thanks for the ability to share this bit of urban wild-craft and it's healthy vitality with all who come here seeking healing. We are but stewards, and seek to be worthy of that role.

To your planting, branching out and ripening,