On maple trees, falling leaves, and the quiet science of letting go
Growing up in Canada, the maple leaf was everywhere. On the flag, sports jerseys, gas station signs, the coins in my pocket. It was stitched into everything around me, a reminder that I was a part of this place. At such a young age I didn't know the first thing about maple trees. I just knew the leaf meant home.
I remember lying on my back under a huge maple in the fall, the whole canopy gone fiery with reds and oranges. I’d watch as the leaves let go one at a time. They'd spin and drift, as if they were floating, some landing on my chest, my arms, my face. I didn't call it nature connection back then. I didn't call it anything. I was a kid under a tree marveling at the beauty above me. It wasn’t until many years later that I learned what was actually happening up in those branches.
Where the Color Comes From
All summer, maple leaves are green because they're packed with chlorophyll, the pigment in many plants that turns sunlight into sugar. Then the days start to get shorter and the nights get cooler. The tree feels the shift, reads the seasonal signals and stops making chlorophyll. As the bright green chlorophyll fades from each leaf, yellows and oranges emerge. These pigments are called carotenoids, and they were in the leaf the whole time, all summer long, just waiting for right cues. The vibrant fall reds, however, are different. Those are called anthocyanins, and the tree makes them fresh in the fall, from sugars trapped in the leaf. Sunny days and cool nights produce the most intense reds, which is why some autumns are brilliantly bright and others are more muted depending on the year.
Scientists think the anthocyanins protect the leaf a little longer so the tree can pull in as many nutrients as possible before the leaf drops. That’s the beautiful work of fall: reclaiming resources to store for spring. Once each leaf’s remaining nutrients are absorbed, it grows a thin layer of cells at the base of each leaf stem, called the abscission layer, sealing the leaf off. The leaves sit, waiting for a breeze to come and guide them to their next job, becoming a nursery and sanctuary layer of leaf litter on the ground.
More Than a Pretty Tree
Maples are weavers. They hold whole communities together. Hundreds of species of moths and butterflies use maples as host plants for their caterpillars, and those caterpillars feed the songbirds raising young every spring. Early maple flowers are some of the first food for pollinators after winter.
Sugar maples do something even more incredible, however, all invisible to the naked eye. At night, their deep roots pull water up from lower soil and release it into the shallow soil near the surface, nourishing neighboring shallow-rooted plants, shrubs, and microorganisms. Researchers call it hydraulic lift. The maple is basically running an irrigation system for the forest while everyone sleeps.
Fall, Texas Style
I've spent the last ten years in Texas now, trading maple canopies for live oaks and juniper.
People say Texas doesn't have seasons, but it does. They're just quieter, and they show up unpredictably.
Fall in Texas is always a surprise. It arrives with the first real cold front, usually sometime in late October, when the wind swings around from the north and the temperature drops twenty degrees in an hour. You know those days. The ones we’ve been longing for since May, opening our windows for the first time since spring. A sigh of relief that even the trees can feel.
The color comes in small doses if you know where to look. Bald cypress along the rivers turn a rusty copper. Cedar elms go yellow. Flameleaf sumac lights up the roadsides in red. Texas red oaks finally earn their name.
And then there's Lost Maples. Tucked into the Sabinal River canyons near Vanderpool, Texas. Lost Maples State Natural Area protects a stand of bigtooth maples that really shouldn't be in Central Texas at all. They're survivors from the last ice age, holding on in deep canyons where limestone walls block the afternoon sun and spring-fed water keeps the ground cool. Thousands of years later, they're still there. A small, isolated population surviving in a pocket of the past. Peak color usually lands in early to mid November, depending on the year. Walk the trail along the creek and you'll see canyon walls glowing orange and red, leaves floating in clear green pools. For anyone who grew up with northern falls and moved south, it feels a little like a little bit of home.
Welcoming Fall
Every year the maples do the same thing. Pull back what they need, shifting colors and dropping what they don't need anymore, trusting that spring will come.
Our new Maple Leaf temporary tattoo is for anyone who has a tree like that in their memory. The one you lay under, climbed, raked, or just stood beneath while the leaves came down around you. Wear it through the season. And if you get the chance, go find a maple this fall and lie down under it for a while.
Happy Fall Y'all,
Jo Joly
NatureTats Brand Naturalist & Marketing Coordinator
On maple trees, falling leaves, and the quiet science of letting go
Growing up in Canada, the maple leaf was everywhere. On the flag, sports jerseys, gas station signs, the coins in my pocket. It was stitched into everything around me, a reminder that I was a part of this place. At such a young age I didn't know the first thing about maple trees. I just knew the leaf meant home.
I remember lying on my back under a huge maple in the fall, the whole canopy gone fiery with reds and oranges. I’d watch as the leaves let go one at a time. They'd spin and drift, as if they were floating, some landing on my chest, my arms, my face. I didn't call it nature connection back then. I didn't call it anything. I was a kid under a tree marveling at the beauty above me. It wasn’t until many years later that I learned what was actually happening up in those branches.
Where the Color Comes From
All summer, maple leaves are green because they're packed with chlorophyll, the pigment in many plants that turns sunlight into sugar. Then the days start to get shorter and the nights get cooler. The tree feels the shift, reads the seasonal signals and stops making chlorophyll. As the bright green chlorophyll fades from each leaf, yellows and oranges emerge. These pigments are called carotenoids, and they were in the leaf the whole time, all summer long, just waiting for right cues. The vibrant fall reds, however, are different. Those are called anthocyanins, and the tree makes them fresh in the fall, from sugars trapped in the leaf. Sunny days and cool nights produce the most intense reds, which is why some autumns are brilliantly bright and others are more muted depending on the year.
Scientists think the anthocyanins protect the leaf a little longer so the tree can pull in as many nutrients as possible before the leaf drops. That’s the beautiful work of fall: reclaiming resources to store for spring. Once each leaf’s remaining nutrients are absorbed, it grows a thin layer of cells at the base of each leaf stem, called the abscission layer, sealing the leaf off. The leaves sit, waiting for a breeze to come and guide them to their next job, becoming a nursery and sanctuary layer of leaf litter on the ground.
More Than a Pretty Tree
Maples are weavers. They hold whole communities together. Hundreds of species of moths and butterflies use maples as host plants for their caterpillars, and those caterpillars feed the songbirds raising young every spring. Early maple flowers are some of the first food for pollinators after winter.
Sugar maples do something even more incredible, however, all invisible to the naked eye. At night, their deep roots pull water up from lower soil and release it into the shallow soil near the surface, nourishing neighboring shallow-rooted plants, shrubs, and microorganisms. Researchers call it hydraulic lift. The maple is basically running an irrigation system for the forest while everyone sleeps.
Fall, Texas Style
Welcoming Fall
Every year the maples do the same thing. Pull back what they need, shifting colors and dropping what they don't need anymore, trusting that spring will come.
Our new Maple Leaf temporary tattoo is for anyone who has a tree like that in their memory. The one you lay under, climbed, raked, or just stood beneath while the leaves came down around you. Wear it through the season. And if you get the chance, go find a maple this fall and lie down under it for a while.
Happy Fall Y'all,
Jo Joly
NatureTats Brand Naturalist & Marketing Coordinator