Mystery of ‘second spring’ where every leaf is a flower
SOONER or later everything must fall, and in my northern corner it has happened in earnest. The ornamental acer tree planted in our garden by its previous inhabitants has, over recent weeks, turned a deep copper gold. Now though its branches are all but bare and those star-cornered leaves drift in heaps across the lawn.
A beech wood I go running in is transformed into a great carpet of leaves kicked up by squirrels as they skitter away from my clunking footsteps. And it is not just the trees. Even the chickens are beginning to shed their plumage ahead of winter. At present our flock of four is looking distinctly weathered.
But when I head south, I notice many trees are still in what is nearly full leaf. How strange for the seasons to be so markedly different over the matter of a few hundred miles.
Researchers have carried out studies attempting to explain exactly when trees lose their leaves, but the science of abscission (from the Latin, “to cut”) remains somewhat vague.
Clearly, we know why they do it: shedding leaves helps to conserve water, nutrients and energy through the cold months. Chlorophyll, the pigment that turns leaves green, is one of the first molecules to be broken down, hence autumn’s myriad shades.
Scientists believe it is the reduction of light – rather than first frosts – that plays a greater impact. It has also been suggested through a 2015 study in the US, that exposure to moderate heat and drought conditions could lead to later periods of tree dormancy.
“Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower,” wrote Albert Camus, the French philosopher.
But unlike spring, this remains the season of mystery. There is a lesson here for those, like myself, preoccupied with monitoring the seasons. Sometimes the thing is simply to admire nature taking its course.