I read an amusing story in the Tribune this week about ginkgo berries and the "large, squishy, yellow-and-brown fruit that, when split open, smell like a cross between cat vomit and ripe dog feces."
I'd never heard of the infamous ginkgo tree until I had a junior high school biology teacher who talked enthusiastically of their unique foliage and beauty on several occassions. Having a gingko tree on your property was an honor and privilege, it seemed after listening to her. The way she talked about them, she made everyone in our class want one.
Yeah, my attitude about them changed when I had the privilege of walking past one during my trips to and from my car each day on our campus this fall. As far as I can tell, it's my first live encounter with a gingko tree.
Seriously. The "large, squishy, yellow-and-brown fruit that, when split open, smell like a cross between cat vomit and ripe dog feces." And the days when that smell lingers on my shoes planted under my desk are not pleasant.
But. I'd rather not have the tree cut down.
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