Black Tupelo Leaves
Maybe it's because of all those years of school through college and graduate work, but fall has always felt like a fresh beginning to me. The cooler weather and break in humidity are gifts, but it's the changing light and the turning leaves that stir something artistic. In September, the sunlight somehow feels both warm and crisp, and the colors slowly deepen as the landscape begins its final display before winter. It's an inspiring season, and I often find myself wishing I had more time simply to sit and take it all in.
That chance rarely comes, but I do collect leaves—small treasures gathered on walks to and from school with my children, during errands, or on quiet walks of my own. Each one offers its own palette of color, texture, and pattern, and often becomes the beginning of a new painting.
On a rare midday walk through Princeton, I noticed the most striking red leaves scattered along the sidewalk. They were richly colored and mottled with dark markings, glowing against the pavement like pieces of stained glass. I didn't have time to stop and study them, so I gathered a handful to press and examine later.
When I spread them out at home, I realized something unusual—I couldn't identify them.
I've spent a lifetime noticing plants, gardens, and the changing seasons, so encountering a tree I didn't recognize immediately captured my curiosity. I made a mental note to return and study the tree more carefully.
A second visit, along with a little botanical research, finally solved the mystery. The brilliant leaves belonged to a Black Gum, also known as Black Tupelo (Nyssa sylvatica), a beautiful native tree. Although it can unnoticed for much of the year, it produces some of the most spectacular autumn color in eastern North America. Individual leaves can glow in shades of scarlet, crimson, orange, and deep maroon, creating an extraordinary display each fall, which I discovered by chance.
After spending time studying the subtle shifts in color, the elegant leaf shapes, and the distinctive mottled markings, I arranged the leaves into a gentle spiral reminiscent of a conch shell before beginning the watercolor. Layer by layer, I worked from bright scarlet through deeper crimson and maroon, trying to capture both the brilliance of their color and the quiet strength of the tree itself.
What began as an unidentified leaf on an ordinary walk became one of those small reminders that discoveries are waiting to be made if we're willing to look a little more closely.
I hope the finished painting conveys a bit of the wonder I felt standing beneath that canopy of exceptional color. If you're interested in learning more about this remarkable native tree, the Municipality of Princeton has an excellent article about the Black Gum (Black Tupelo).
Maybe it’s because of all those years of school through college and graduate work, but fall always feels like a fresh beginning to me. The cooler weather and break in humidity are a gift, but it’s the changing plants and light that stirs something artistic. In September, the sunlight appears warm and crisp at the same time, and the colors slowly deepen into richness as the plants begin their last display of the year. It’s incredibly inspiring, and I find myself wishing I had more time to sit and take it in.
That chance rarely comes, but I do collect leaves—small treasures from walks to and from school with my kids, errands, or a walk on my own. Each one carries a palette of ideas offered by nature.
During a rare midday walk in Princeton, I found the most striking red leaves, mottled and glowing against the ground. I didn’t have time to stop, so I picked up a handful to press and study later. Oddly, when I laid them out, I realized I couldn’t identify them. I’m a lifelong lover and observer of nature, plants, and gardens, so that almost never happens. I became intrigued, and made a mental note to go back and study the tree they fell from.
After another visit to the tree where I gathered those mysterious, brilliant red leaves—and a bit of research with the help of a Google image search—I finally solved the mystery. The stunning leaves came from a Black Gum tree (or Black Tupelo), a native species known for its brilliant scarlet foliage each autumn.
To paint them, I arranged the leaves in a gentle, conch-like spiral and painted them in watercolor, layering shades from pyrrol scarlet to deep crimson and maroon. My goal was to capture the luminous beauty and quiet strength of this often-overlooked tree, one that was surprisingly not familiar to me.
I hope my painting conveys a little of the wonder I felt standing beneath that canopy of exceptional color. For those interested in learning more about the beautiful, native Black Gum tree, you can visit this article from the Municipality of Princeton.