Serotina

"Cedar Waxwing Happy Hour"

Featured here with permission from

Maine woodcut artist Blue Butterfield

In the backyard of our historic colonial is a wild black cherry tree, Prunus Serotina. Her circumference places her age at 200 years, give or take. I have lifelong tender feelings towards the aged, and hold Serotina to be a sacred presence outside the kitchen window.

She is crookedy and lopped on one side. In June, she brings out demure frills of milk-white flowers. These give way to bead-sized cherries which progress to peak ripeness by late August.

Our bird society monitors the ripeness with periodic samplings, and as of this writing, we have been apprised that the cherries have not yet let go of their astringency. Soon, though. Very soon.

Two summers ago, cherry festival day brought much joy. Serotina was fully decked out in deep garnet beadwork; a vision. Noah and I stepped outside to behold this tree festooned — that is the word — with cedar waxwings. This splendid image by Maine artist Blue Butterfield captures the spirit of that moment.

The tree branches lightly creaked and sighed as the waxwings celebrated their way from one cherry cluster to another. Their intoxication called to mind that festive beverage among the colonists, cherry rum or cherry bounce. Serotina offers a fine vintage, possibly.

The cedar waxwings relieved our tree of all her fruit and went on their way to disperse her seeds in all of their purply droppings.