A simple pleasure

The past several weeks, I've been enjoying one of those little childhood pleasures I'd almost forgotten about: stepping with a loud "crunch" on sycamore bark scattered on the streets. There was only one sycamore tree in my neighborhood growing up, but I always loved walking passed it and crunching over the latest bark that the tree had shed. The sound and feel are satisfying in the same way popping bubblewrap is. I'd look down as I walked, changing the cadence of my step and carefully placing my foot over the bark with a slow heel to toe movement for a crinkling crunch or else a giant stomp for a quick pop of sound.

My neighborhood here in Philly actually has quite a few sycamore trees, so I've found myself occasionally swerving from my path to step on a piece of crunchy bark. It occurred to me today that I had no idea 1) what kinds of trees these were, and 2) why they shed bark at all. Through the wonders of the Internet I discovered that sycamores are common in Philadelphia and New York. Apparently their bark is very thin and peels off to allow the tree to grow, but beyond that, the "exfoliating bark" is a mystery.

In a way, that's satisfying. Childhood pleasures, even enjoyed as adults, are always more fun when they have some mystery in them.