A year among the trees

by Wilson Flagg

In the foliage of the tupelo deep shades of purple first appear, brightening into crimson or scarlet before it falls. This tree more invariably shows a mass of unmixed crimson than any other species. Even in the maple, if the general presentation is red, you will find a considerable mixture of yellow. The colors of the scarlet oak are seldom pure or unmixed; but those of the tupelo are invariable, except as they pass through the gradations from purple to scarlet. If, therefore, the tupelo were as common in the woods as the maple, it would contribute more splendor to the scenery of autumn. There are many trees that never produce a red leaf. I have never found one in the foliage of the poplar, the birch, the tulip, the hickory, or the chestnut, which are all of some shade of yellow; but there are usually a few yellow leaves scattered among the ruddy foliage of any tree that assumes this color.

When all the circumstances attending the season have been favorable to the tints of autumn, there is no tree of the forest that would attract more admiration from the beautiful sobriety of its colors than the American ash. But this tree is so easily affected by drought, that after a dry summer its leaves fall prematurely and its tints are imperfect. The colors of the ash are quite unique, and distinguish it from all other trees. Under favorable circumstances its coloring process is nearly uniform. It begins with a general impurpling of the whole mass of foliage nearly at the same time, and its gradual changes remind me of those observed in sea-mosses during the process of bleaching. There is an invariable succession in these tints, as in the brightening beams of morn. They are first of a dark bronze, turning from this to a chocolate, then to a violet brown, and finally to a salmon-color, or yellow with a slight shade of lilac. When the leaves are faded nearly yellow, they are ready to drop from the tree. It is remarkable, that, with all this variety of hues, neither crimson nor any shade of scarlet is ever seen in the ash. It ought to be remembered that the gradations of autumn tints in all cases are in the order of those of sunrise, from dark to lighter hues, and never the reverse. I make no reference to the browns of dead leaves, which are darker than yellow or orange, from which they turn. I speak only of the changes of leaves before they are seared or dry.

After the middle of October, the oaks are the most conspicuous ornaments of the forest; but they are seldom brilliant. In their foliage there is a predominance of what we call leather-colors, with a considerable mixture of certain shades of red that are peculiar to the oak. We rarely find pure yellow or scarlet leaves in the foliage of any species of oak. The color of the scarlet oak is nearer a purple or crimson than any other shade of red. The white oak turns, with but little variation, to an ashen-purple or impure violet. The black and red oaks display varying and imperfect shades of drab and orange. The oaks are remarkable for the persistence of their foliage, and for the duration of their tints, which are chiefly the brown and russet of dead leaves with a lively polish. Long after other deciduous trees have become leafless, the various sombre shades of the different oaks cast a melancholy tinge over the waning beauty of the forest.

We are wont to speak of trees as the principal objects of admiration in autumnal scenery, but the shrubs, though less conspicuous on account of their inferior size, are not less brilliant. It is also remarkable that reds predominate in the shrubbery, and yellows in the trees. Reds and purples distinguish the whortleberry, the cornel, the viburnum, and the sumach, including all their species. There is indeed so small a proportion of yellow in the shrubbery, that it is hardly distinguishable in the general mass of scarlet, crimson, and purple. Among trees, on the contrary, yellows prevail in all miscellaneous woods. They distinguish the poplar, the birch, the hickory, the tulip-tree, the elm, and a good proportion of the maples. It ought to be remarked, however, that there are more shrubs than trees that do not change materially, but remain green until the fall of their leaves. The alder remains green; and as it covers a large proportion of our wet grounds, it might seem to an observer in those situations that the tints of autumn were confined to the trees.

Many persons still believe frost to be the great limner of the foliage, as if it were a sort of dyeing material. On the contrary, the slightest frost will destroy the tints of every leaf that is touched by it. It is not uncommon to witness a general tarnishing of the autumnal tints by frost as early as September. In some years they are spoiled by it before they have begun to be developed. An autumn rarely passes when the colors of the foliage are not half ruined before the time when they ought to be in their brightest condition. But the injury they receive from slight frosts is not apparent to careless observation. In the meridian of their beauty, heat will damage the tints as badly as frost. A very hot and sunny day occurring the first or second week of October makes almost as much havoc with the ash and the maple as a freezing night, fading their leaves rapidly and loosening their attachment to the branches, so that the slightest wind will scatter them to the ground. Yet the action of heat differs materially from that of frost. Frost imbrowns and crisps or sears the leaves, while heat only fades them to lighter and more indefinite shades. Frost is destructive of their colors, heat is only a bleaching agent. Cool weather in autumn without frost is necessary for the preservation of its seasonal beauty.

The most brilliant autumnal hues appear after a wet summer, followed by a cool autumn, unattended with frost. Cool weather preserves not only the purity of the colors, but also the persistence of the foliage. If the early frosts are delayed, the tints are brighter for this delay while the weather remains cool. But a wet summer is so generally followed by premature cold, that the finest displays of autumn scenery are often suddenly ruined by a hard frost. Seldom are all the favorable circumstances for preserving the purity of the tints combined in any one season. Not more than once in six or eight years are both heat and frost kept away so as to permit the leaves to pass, unseared and untarnished, through all their beautiful gradations of color.

There are several herbaceous plants that display tints similar to those of the woods; but they are not very conspicuous. I must not fail to mention the samphire, a plant of the salt marshes, possessing no beauty of form, having neither leaves nor any very discernible flowers, which every year contributes more beauty of color to the grounds it occupies than any flower of summer. Though I have seen no printed account of its magnificent crimson spread interruptedly over miles of salt marsh, my attention has often been called to it by ladies, who are more sensitive than the other sex to such appearances, and more careful observers of them.

The tints of the forest in America are said greatly to surpass those of the European woods. Having never visited Europe, I cannot speak of the comparison from my own observation. But from descriptions of them by different authors who have treated the subject, I have been led to believe that the difference is caused by a larger admixture of scarlet and crimson among the tints of our own trees. To aid the reader in drawing a comparison between them, I have made a synopsis of the tints of American woods during September and October; and have copied a similar one, less full and particular, by George Barnard, of English woods.

NOTE.

There are a few trees and shrubs, of which the alder and buckthorn are examples, that so seldom show any kind of a tint that I have not included them in my list; and there are several species of oak that display such a motley combination of green and rust, with faint shades of purple and yellow, that it is impossible to classify them. In my list I have only named the genera, except when the species are distinguished by important differences. The brown hues of the oak and the beech are the tints only of their dead leaves or dead parts of leaves; but pure browns are sometimes seen in the living leaf of the snowy mespilus, the pear-tree, and the smoke-tree; in others they occur so seldom that they may be classed as accidental hues. I ought to add that only a small part of what may be said of the tints of trees is unqualifiedly correct. They are greatly modified by circumstances which cannot always be understood. I have seen maples that always remained green, apple-trees dressed in scarlet and yellow, and lilacs in a deep violet; but I have never seen a purple, crimson, or scarlet leaf on any of the trees of Division I. of the Synopsis.