Thanksgiving is our Harvest Holiday, albeit gleaning at the greenmarket is about as close as we get to the traditional agrarian labors these days. We’re still ready to eat, though; more than ever…

Here’s something you may not want to eat, not yet, but it’s a start. Or rather a return…




Let’s be thankful for the first fruits of the American Chestnut that the Park has seen in many years. I’ve mentioned the saga of the Chestnut a few times here; how a foreign fungus nearly eradicated the species, and how in the Spring of 2000 specimens of a newly engineered blight-resistant strain were planted on the crown of the Great Hill. I’m not sure how old the saplings were when planted, but a couple of them have done well over these few years, and one of them flowered for the first time this past June.





Fruit must follow flower, and the end result is a spiny ball that splits open to reveal, ta-da: chestnuts! And just in time for the Holidays. Okay, so it doesn’t quite compare with our dear friends who are actually having a baby (now there’s something to be thankful for!) I guess a seed has to sprout to match up with what we call being born. But like I said, it’s a start. And aren’t they cute when they’re small? Really small: these are not your big, bulbous, bred-for-human-consumption-roasting-on-an-open-fire type chestnuts. Those you can buy on the street corner, but these, puny though they may be, belong to the Park, and I’m putting one up on the page to give thanks for everything that grows from seeds, be they weeds or baby trees. And, oh yes, baby people, too. Sprouting from Mother or from Mother Earth is much the same: just different ways of making it to the holiday banquet we call Life.
All we can say is “Thanks.”