Tree tuesday: Caramel hearts fall from the Katsura

In the succession of trees whose leaves turn yellow in the fall, the red ash are pretty much denuded of their lance-shaped leaflets. Other yellow-leafers, like the black walnut are taking their place while the ginkgo, the last to go yellow, patiently waits her turn.

One little-known member of the autumn yellow-leafers is the katsura (Cercidiphyllum japonicum). Like the longtime favourite, now-gone Montreal restaurant of the same name, the katsura is Japanese. If you know any teenage ginkgo trees, you will notice the similarity in shape: the straight central trunk and low-parting branches. While the young ginkgo’s branches grow straight or arch upwards, the katsura’s arch distinctly downwards, giving the highly rounded, heart-shaped leaves an appearance of being suspended in air.

Like the ginkgo, that stands alone in the world, the only species and genus within its family, the katsura is also alone within its own family, named, inevitably, the katsura family. Given that the tree originates in the northern temperate forests of Japan, China and Korea, the katsura has acclimatized well to northeastern North America.

I’m  not sure when the first katsura made its way to Montreal but it might have been in the last 1950s when one was planted in Blossom Corner at the Morgan Arboretum, at Ste. Anne-de-Belleville. John Watson, manager of forest operations at the arboretum, reveres the nine-metre high tree. “The foliage of the underside of the leaves is magnificent,” he says, describing how it becomes purple while the topside goes from green to yellow to a pinkish beige.

The oldest one I have seen is hidden in the courtyard of the Stewart Biology Building of McGill University and would have been planted roughly when construction of this building was finished in 1965. The easiest way in to see the tree is from Dr. Penfield Street, half a block west of Peel Street. This courtyard, by the way, is full of rare species thanks to the audacity of the late C. Darnley Gibbs, professor of botany and longtime garden master at McGill, who planted this collection of unusual trees, each in its own enormous raised bed.

The first time I encountered this katsura, I was baffled by the almost-round leaves. The only leaf I knew that came close to this shape was that of the trembling aspen but the shape of the tree and colour of the bark – brown and grey and flaking in narrow strips- was not the least bit poplar-like (aspen and poplar are two names for the same genus of tree).

Since then, I’ve seen several others in the inner city, the largest being in the garden of the Santropol Café. You can see its leaves hanging over the back fence. There’s also one on Laval Avenue, west side, midway between Rachel and Marianne streets. Another may be found on Henri-Julien, west side, midway between Roy and Napoleon streets. Given the proximity to the street of this latter katsura, the fact that it appears to be in good health indicates that, perhaps like the ginkgo, this old tree species that dates from roughly 150 million years ago, has developed plenty of tolerance to difficult growing conditions such as those posed by drought, cold and saltspray.

Finally, there’s the katsura in this photograph. This tree lives in a backyard in the Drolet-Henri-Julien street alley, north of Duluth Street, that I have long been aware of due to the presence of an enormous American linden (also known as basswood). Until this past week, I hadn’t noticed the young katsura growing beneath the linden. The brightness emananting from this elegant tree caught my attention.

As for the caramel — and in French the tree is sometimes known as l’arbre à caramel — the allusion is to the sweet perfume of the dying leaves. So, now  you have more than one reason to breath deeply through the nose as you shuffle in the leaves on the sidewalk running alongside the Santropol!

Postscript: Les promenades dans la Forêt Montréal are now finished for the year but that shouldn’t curtail your exploration of the urban forest. A great collection of outdoor and indoor trees, for instance, lives at the Jardin botanique de Montréal. I highly recommend becoming a member of Les amis du JBM. It doesn’t cost much, gets you in free and gives you four editions of their excellent magazine, Quatre-Temps. This is a good time to become a member because, for the month of November, les amis du JBM have free admission to the Biodome and the Planetarium, not to mention 15% off their books and gift items. See amisjardin.qc.ca/membres/membres.htm