On seeing an old ginkgo leaf on your path, how could you possibly fail to pick it up and look around you to discover where it might have come from, its tree and then to think back over the leaf’s journey, imagine the winds, search for clues and similar leaves.One day at Neuchâtel, a similar event took me, as if through the avenues of a labyrinth, to the rear of an old house, transformed into a primary school…Hidden in a small green area behind an outbuilding, amid ladders, gates and a greenhouse, there he was, the Ginkgo, neglected like a tired-out minotaur.