The Red Maple

The Red Maple is our Tree of Distinction for September. Its waving brilliant leaves of colors welcomes our students back to campus. It is one of the first fall trees to change colors. There are 1,242 maple trees actively managed in the Waugh arboretum. 577 are Red Maples. 

This Red Maple is located between Dickinson Hall and Grayson Hall on Orchard Hill Drive. Photo: Courtesy of Arborist Brady Yacek.

The Red Maple by Certified Campus Arborist, Brady Yacek

The Red Maple (Acer rubrum) is a medium-large deciduous tree native to much of North America from Newfoundland to Southern Manitoba; from Florida to eastern Texas.  It is known by other names: Swamp Maple , Water Maple, or Soft Maple.  Its brightly colored fall foliage gives this tree a well-deserved place in  New England’s  autumn palette with its magnificent red, orange and golden hues.

Though the Red Maple is native to the northeastern U.S., it has also been cultivated extensively over the years to create some well-known cultivars such as ‘Armstrong’, ‘Autumn Blaze’ and ‘Red Sunset’ with even more spectacular fall color as well as improved structure and adaptability.

Foliage:  Its leaves are usually bright green and palmate with 3-5 lobes except during the Fall when the foliage turns Red Orange and Golden.

Fruit/ Flower:  Late Winter - Early Spring (Female=Bright Red, Male = Yellow to Bronze) Fruit are bright red samaras that quickly ripen and fall in early Summer.

Growth Habit:  Typically pyramidal or elliptical in youth becoming more ovoid, rounded or irregular in maturity.  (However many cultivars offer compact, upright and improved street tree structure).

Red Maples: A Poem By Sara Teasdale

How few men are worth my trust;
I have seen the friend I loved
Struck by death into the dust,
And fears I never knew before,
Have knocked and knocked upon my door,
"I shall hope little and ask for less,"
I said, "There is no happiness."

I have grown wise at last, but how,
Can I hide the gleam on the willow-bough,
Or keep the fragrance out of the rain
Now that April is here again?
When maples stand in a haze of fire,
What can I say to the old desire,
What shall I do with the joy in me,
That is born out of agony?