Tuesday, October 29, 2013

The Sepia-Toned Flutters

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run [...]"

                                   To Autumn - John Keats


Clumps of yellows - lime, saffron, cream-
glowing at the back gate of school
The foliage is steadily gaining momentum to burst into full bloom of gloriously dazzling hues of autumn. There are only dashes of the darkest burgundy and copper at the back gate of my school - a tiny clump of leaves here and there - but I see yellows everywhere, glowing in the light of day. 

Most of the trees are Ginkgo biloba, called 은행나무 in Korean. I think its Korean name is really pretty; its literal meaning is "trees with apricots of a silvery glow".

The trees can be distinguished easily only with a quick glance at its leaves. They look like minuscule fans (or duck feet to the Chinese, hence the name 鴨脚). Looked at a little more closely, there are tiny veins radiating from the leaf base into the leaf blade. The veins are grouped in pairs, which is known as dichotomous venation. I am thinking about how they resemble strands of hair...when I suddenly remember the tree's old name, "maidenhair tree". It's not too hard to figure out the reason behind the numerous names. 


"Trees with apricots of a silvery glow"? 

"Maidenhair tree" ?
My friends have another way to quickly figure out which trees are Ginkgo - by searching for the seeds that have fallen from above. Knowing that these trees are scattered all around the campus, they always scan the ground for  small light yellow-brown seeds before taking a step. The appearance of these little fruit-like seeds can be deceiving: they emit such a foul smell (caused by butyric acid in the seeds) that if you happen to step on them, you can guarantee your shoes will carry an awful stench for days (unless you wash them and scrub them fiercely, of course). It smells a bit like vomit or food waste, which hardly seems possible for  'silvery apricots'.

Still, however rancid the seeds may be, the foliage is simply magnificent. From saffron to beige, hazel, toast, tan and auburn, the seemingly endless shades of yellow are always what I miss when winter comes. 



Small fruit-like seeds tangled with the fan-like leaves...bearing the repugnant odor of vomit


There is something other than the medical properties (although they are still debated over) about the Ginkgo that's truly astounding. It has great capacity for enduring harsh conditions, and that's putting it mildly. Several trees even survived the Hiroshima atomic bomb explosion. They were within 1-2 km radius from the site, and they are still alive. Its enduring resistance against pests and toxins is absolutely remarkable. 

Soon, I'll be seeing other colors of autumn - carmine, rust, chestnut, wine, coral and tangerine - dominate the scene, but the blushes of cream, tints of lemon, glows of gold and sand will always be what I look for throughout the season. 

Friday, October 11, 2013

Something About the Wild Flowers

                 I remember when I was four or five, talking to grown-ups about how I loved each and every flower in the forest we were walking through. It wasn't the "They're just weeds, dear" itself, but the way they said it that took me aback: the flat, impassive tone in which they carelessly diminished the glittering gems into something that sounded dull, even inferior.

                 Today, my adoration for wild flowers hasn't changed a bit. Over the years, my understanding of how they captivate me has become clearer. There is something in their attitude in blooming, the way they hold themselves and how they fit into the world around them. 

         A "bouquet" of green bristlegrass with daisies     
                 They lack the sophistication seen in carefully gardened flowers, but that is what is so charming about them. They are not polished, not manicured; they embody the paradox of having the fine details that make them very exquisite without being too refined. They are subtle instead, almost suggestive in their beauty.


                 A subtle suggestive beauty
                 I admire where, when, and how they burst into life. There are no specific boundaries as to what spaces they can occupy - they grow in the most unexpected places sometimes, not caring who sees them or what threatens them nearby. They escape the contained edges without a second thought, simply aching to see the world, whether it offers them sunshine, rain, snow or wind. They seem adventurous and carefree.

Bursting into life, freely blooming without borders
                 Their strong-willed character in seeing the world for themselves make them more youthful and naive at the same time. They are childish in the way they venture out without a wisp of fear,  to such an extent that they look puerile, even. That's why I can always sense a pinch of silliness, a little mischievousness. 

                 A single flower seems a little too fragile. But when I dare to place a fingertip on its velvety petal, it withstands the force with surprising ease. I wonder at the vitality and energy it holds in its tiny self. 



                 A clover flower among daisies
                 It is that slight imperfection, the way they show up unintentionally but oh so cheerfully that make them so delectable, so lovable. It's autumn, so I'll be seeing my beloved wild flower Cosmos bipinnatus (garden cosmos, Mexican aster) at Yangjaecheon soon!

Cosmos beyond (Picture taken on my recent trip to Pyeongchang)

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Full Moon at Yangjaecheon

                  Today is the 15th day of the 8th month on the lunar calendar - the day Korea celebrates Chuseok - The Harvest Moon Festival. Besides filling ourselves with foods that simply ooze with deliciousness such as traditional rice cakes (Songpyeon) and playing games with our family, we also go out to see the full moon. Traditionally, the agrarian society made wishes to the moon for health and prosperity. Nowadays, though, many simply enjoy watching the moon, as I did today. 

                  There were more people out at Yangjaecheon than usual, having a fun time with their loved ones under the gorgeous luminosity.

 Just visible above the trees


Shining bright over the apartment blocks

So many people under the bridge, simply having a chat or a laugh together.

The colors of the stream this evening were so harmonious, composed and relaxing. 

A green bus makes its way under the moonlight

 

A wild raccoon, according to passersby. It's hard to imagine such a creature among the sprawling Tower Palace buildings.








Wishing you all good fortune <3

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Lavender, Ivory, Cocoa and Cyan at Yangjaecheon

My third day of freedom with the colors:

                  Seeing your favorite flower unexpectedly really makes your day. Aster frikartii (Flora’s Delight) shyly hid among the bushes, but of course, there was no way I could miss the lavender-blue. This type of Michaelmas daisies isn’t just loved for its lovely shade but also for its long flowering season, spanning from mid-summer to autumn. It is also quite strong – it doesn’t need staking except in windy gardens and is also mildew-resistant. BBC Gardening tells me it looks great with Echinacea purpurea (Coneflower) and Achillea millefolium (Yarrow). What do you think?  http://www.bbc.co.uk/gardening/plants/plant_finder/plant_page/74.shtml 

                  The rain hasn't come for a few days, and I was happy to be able to walk along the skipping stones again under a clear sky.

                  I found out the name of this particular group of trees that I see so often: 쥐똥나무 (Ligustrum obtusifolium). I childishly chuckle at its funny Korean name; literally, it means “Rat Poo Tree”. It was named after the shape of its berries – apparently bearing a high resemblance to rat feces. However the berries may look, the flowers are minute white gems among the deep green when they bloom in June. I heard some people are actually wishing that the name be changed to “검정알나무” (Black Bead Tree”) to avoid the offensive name. These trees can be easily seen in urban environments in Korea. To my surprise, they have amazing medical powers. Applying slightly ground raw berries onto bleeding gums has therapeutic effects. Tea made from their berries has curative properties for diabetes and body aches. http://www.ohmynews.com/NWS_Web/View/at_pg.aspx?CNTN_CD=A0001872855 

                                      Its berries apparently resemble rat feces, hence the Korean name "쥐똥나무"!

  
                 Now that the water on the pavement has dried, the cyclists are out to enjoy the cool air and mellow sunlight. I suddenly miss speeding away on my two wheels, getting my hair blowing about messily in my face but gleefully happy at the same time.


                  One, two, three, four… and five! I saw more sparrows than I expected in just a corner of a bushy patch. The soft shades of brown and the tiny beaks are not a common sight in cities all around the world. In the Netherlands, for example, they are already an endangered species. Researchers have not yet been able to pick out one specific explanation for its population’s decline. So far, the electromagnetic radiation from mobile phones and destruction of their habitats through the construction of manicured lawns and other gardening measures are the main reasons to blame.


                  I spotted several blue mint beetles. The shiny electric blue never fails to cheer me up. Yet, they are actually considered pests in various gardening environments; the adult and larval variants of Chrysolina coerulans eat the foliage on mint plants, becoming a widespread problem on the mainland of Europe.



            
One small thing! How can we distinguish moths from butterflies quickly and easily? When they land on a surface, the former spread their wings widely while the latter fold theirs. For example, if you ever come across a White Witch moth, don’t confuse it for a butterfly! http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thysania_agrippina

Saturday, August 31, 2013

The "Sunflowers" of Yangjaecheon

My second day of freedom with the summer breeze:

                  It’s late afternoon and families are out to enjoy the first proper bask in the sunshine in days. Little children are running around, delighted with the bustling summer sounds. The anxious mothers never let them get out of their sight, but even they seem breezy and buoyant for once.


                  Having hung around 영동 3-4 last time, I go off in the direction of 영동 2.

                  Trees, flowers, and the sparkling waters envelop me; the sounds of cicadas ring in my ears. It seems as though life is bursting with sweet juice with each step I take. It feels almost like a culinary experience – of nature’s blissful wonders. 

                  I see many earthworms again, and this time, many are moving around near the puddles. I wondered last time why such a big number of them had emerged at once, so I researched a little. According to some worm experts such as Cindy Hale, the annelids do not surface from the underground to avoid drowning. In fact, they take advantage of the temporary wet surfaces to move safely to new places. Maintaining their skin moistness is crucial: they breathe through their skin, and it must stay wet to have a constant intake of oxygen. That is why they move around after rain in high humidity, so that they will not suffocate while out of the soil.

                  I see sticker orange lilies - splashes of apricots and carrots - among the greens. Suddenly, a small black cat swishes past the bushes. I am reminded of a particular characteristic of some lilies: Toxic to cats, causing renal failure. I make a mental note to find out whether the ones I see are such lilies.

                  Looking closely at the pavement, the dirt and concrete, I find many dead insects. They all seem dried up, shriveled and shrunk. A particular body of one that has a close resemblance to a cockroach remains only as its exoskeleton. How intricate, how perfect and how fragile its outer “covering” is!


                  Dragonflies flutter past, and I feel like a child again when I see lady bugs, the little gems that I adored – and still do - so much.


                  Oh look! The particular shade of tangerine and the shape of the leaves make me think I could be looking at pumpkin leaves and flowers…and I’m right! (proved by matching my picture with ones on Google Images) Pumpkins have both female and male flowers on the same plant and so are classified as monoecious. The female ones can be distinguished by the little ovary at the base of the petals. They are usually very close to the vine and stems – usually a few inches. I marvel at such delicate shades of yellowy peach; apparently, they can only be open for periods as short as a day, having short life spans.


                  The level of water of the stream has lowered a little, but not enough to expose the stepping stones and the small concert stage in the middle of the stream.

                  As I walk past the Hibiscus syriacus, the national flower of Korea, I notice the uniqueness of the lights in the shape of sunflowers. They’re solar-powered, and I see many of them lining the edges of the stream. Specifically, they are Hybrid Solar Power LED lights: A solar power system and a hybrid system are connected to the grid, but the latter includes a battery bank. Most hybrid systems have a back-up generator, to supply power at all times. These sunflowers, too, are on even on rainy and foggy days, when not much sunlight can be converted into electricity. These 30W LED lamps have replaced the previous 100W metal lamps, increasing their efficiency. The energy consumption of these lamps is only 12 percent of that of the previous ones, also reducing carbon dioxide emissions. An additional feature: the lamps are dimmed to 15W at very late night hours, when few pass the area.