The Wonderful Fall of Autumn

Today [ the last week of April] is an absolutely perfect Autumn day in the garden at ?Kibbenjelok?.

I am sitting in the sun room and looking through the windows. I can see and admire the Birch trees, the Betula family, some clad in bright yellow leaves at the height of their Autumn grandeur, others, their moment of glory over, are dropping their crisp light brown leaves on to the grass so the worms can come along and drag the leaves under. We have four different Birch trees in our ?white trunk? mini-wood, most were planted ten years ago and were the graceful and ubiquitous Silver Birch. Tiny little seedlings all of 3 inches in height when purchased, they are now reaching tall into the blue sky above. When we received the dozens of seedlings from a wholesaler nursery, I stood in the middle of the large grassed area which once had been an apple orchard and with foolish faith, I gave some of the pots holding the baby Birches to Kees and told him to throw them into the air. I could see in his eyes that he thought I was completely mad. The pots went sailing through the air, we had a grand time and where those mini-Birch trees landed, we planted the wee plants and now we have a Birch wood of great joy to both the native birds and the native humans.

Over the last ten years, I have introduced more exotic forms of Betulas. Betula papyrifera, the paper Birch of North America, has one of the whitest barks of all the many species of Betula. I believe Canadian canoes were made from its wood. This is the first to turn a brilliant yellow and has now lost its leaves Another elegant tree, represented here, is the Betula albo-sinensis var. septentrionalis, a Chinese Birch with beautiful bark, coloured orange and yellow with a pink and grey bloom. Today, its leaves are still green. The most expensive Birch in the mini-wood is utilis var. jacquemontii, the foliage larger and the trunk and branches already an intense white bark though they are still young saplings.

As twilight draws in, I now look towards the ?Cinderella Big Pond? to see if the seventy-year old Birch is beginning to colour. There is not a breath of air, the stillness almost uncanny. There is movement on the lake but that comes from the ducks, the native hens and Kees? rainbow trout that are leaping to catch the dragon flies. The robins, thrushes, parrots, silver eyes, blackbirds and friends are still busy eating apples in the remaining orchards. The noisy New Holland honeyeaters take the opportunity to forage in the Autumn blooms in the quieter than usual gardens. Not that they can?t hold their own against the other birds but the dozens of bumble bees that are working their little hearts out in all parts of the gardens, are well and truly asserting themselves. And now, to make a liar out of me, a whole family of little blue tits have flown in and are checking out the remaining berries on the Rowan tree!

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