The Peanut Butter Tree
Clerodendrum trichotomum. That’s the scientific botanical name. This plant is commonly referred to as the harlequin glorybower, the glorytree, or the peanut butter tree. (I prefer to call it a peanut butter tree because that name makes me giggle.)
My introduction to this unusual plant comes in a most unexpected way.
John and I are out and about in town when we notice that a neighbor’s small tree looks to be in distress. Drooping branches. Wilted leaves. This is no surprise because the past few weeks in Cape Charles, Virginia have been as dry as the Mojave Desert in mid-May.
Knowing that the neighbors are away for a bit, we do what any decent neighbor would do. We give the thirsty tree a nice long drink of water. By the next morning, we see that it has perked up considerably.
I text the neighbors to let them know that John has watered their little dogwood tree. I have no doubt that its’ a dogwood. I’ve only lived in two states: North Carolina and Virginia. And for both of these states, the flowering dogwood is the state flower.
Heavens to Betsy. Even at dusk or when the tips of the leaves are curled, I know what the leaf of a dogwood tree looks like!
Our friends quickly respond to my text and express their gratitude for our having watered their “peanut butter” tree. What? Is this a joke? Who ever heard of a “peanut butter” tree? Goodness gracious. Mercy me. For the reason previously stated, I’m pretty confident in my ability to identify the leaf of a “dogwood” tree.
A follow-up email invites me to go sniff the leaves of this tree. Take a wild guess what I do next. Yep. You got it. I march over to the neighbor’s yard and stick my nose up close to the tree. Then, I rub a leaf between two fingers and take a long whiff of my fingers.
Jiminy Cricket!
The leaves of a peanut butter tree smell exactly like—wait for it—peanut butter. Well, I’ll be John Brown.
I believe in the intrinsic value of hard work and the desire to learn something new. At this point in my writing journey, hard work equates to a minimum of an 8-hour workday of writing, illustrating, and reading. (Sometimes, it’s a 12-hour day.) And currently, learning something new involves webinars, workshops, “how-to” books, manuscript critiques, and conferences.
This peanut-butter-tree experience has been a timely reminder of two things.
1. A balance of work and play is a good thing. Opportunities to enjoy life await me at every turn if I will just stop long enough to see them or hear them—or smell them.
2. I can’t possibly know everything. (I’m guessing that you can say the same thing.) Whether it’s new information about a tree or writing and illustrating, I say, “Bring it on!”
Therefore . . .
I, Nan Carlton, being of (relatively) sound mind and body, do hereby solemnly pledge that henceforth I will slow down for a few minutes every day and smell the proverbial peanut butter leaf (or rose). And if a friend (on Facebook or otherwise) sees that I have forgotten or abandoned this pledge, I do hereby grant said friend permission to (gently) speak to me concerning this perceived failure.
P.S. In the past few days, I’ve read a lot about the peanut butter tree. And I can’t wait until the neighbor’s tree is mature enough to flower. Standby for pictures on Facebook when this happens.