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The maple tree in my front yard is a gleaming golden glory after 3 in the afternoon, when the sun hits it squarely. In the last few days its top leaves have let go, so those bare ruined branches reach toward the sky while the lower two-thirds of the tree remains golden.
But my tree pales in comparison with the Dearborn Street gingko I passed last week. It still has all its leaves, and the mid-morning sun was turning it into a golden torch. How can people walk past it without bowing and paying reverence to the beauty? Well, I must admit I did. I admired it, but I didn't genuflect or even stop for long. In my defense I say that no one likes the Pharisee-like overkill of ostentatious adoration. My internal admiration will have to suffice.
Food blog: http://fastandfearlesscooking.blogspot.ca
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