Mum's the Word

In front of the B Thomas Golisano Library, gracefully tucked along the curve of the plaza area, stand five large plant urns. They probably hold a ton of dirt and are too heavy for student "moving about" pranks. In shape they resemble those quaint handle-less Japanese teacups - round and deep, but with a squareness about them that speaks of sturdy daintiness.



At the beginning of the fall semester, the grounds people exchanged the colorful summer flowers for leafy foliage and ivy vines surrounding a center clump of white mums. When first I saw them, I immediately disliked them. It was just too odd to see these clumps of snow while the sky was so blue and the weather so warm. But I am not in charge of such things, and for the most part the grounds people do a marvelous job maintaining the flowerbeds and walkways hereabouts. So I tucked my taste back in my pocket and tried not to look at them as I came and went via the front entrance.



Buzzing about preparing for homecoming, I suddenly realized those white mums had turned purple! It was extraordinary. I had no idea white mums could suddenly blush with such deep color! I loved them. Purple is one of my favorite colors, and they set off the ivy vines so cozily. I was just about to tell someone about the now-purple mums when they disappeared altogether! What?? Where on earth did they go? I never saw anyone root them up. Why would anyone take planted mums? Before I could mention the mumless pots to my colleagues, the ivy vines also disappeared.



It was mysterious magic. The next day I left for a voice lesson in the morning and by the time I returned a half hour later, even the pots were gone, leaving dark brown mud circles where once the containers stood. I don't know what kind of games the grounds people are playing, but it wrecks havoc with my equilibrium - I never know quite what to expect. This morning the empty pots are back, sans dirt altogether vacated for the onslaught of winter.



This is mummery of the most curious kind. I shall not tell my colleagues of this strange sequence of events. I mentioned it to a couple of people who looked at me strangely, not having noticed the change of flora out front. So Mum's the word. But I shall be watching. Just in case something else appears out there!