Marcescent: (of a leaf or frond) withering but remaining
attached to the stem. Origin: Early 18th century from Latin marcescent-
‘beginning to wither’, from marcere ‘wither’.
The oak and beech cling to their leaves.
I love how the term 'marcesence' is onomatopoeic of what it is. As we descend into darkest December, the leaves of some of my favorite trees are stubbornly refusing to fall. Instead their susurration adds a crisp percussion to our windy days. I am also treated to a richness of russet in the winter garden before snow spreads its quiet white blanket and covers my tragedies and triumphs.
I find marcesence to be not only a wonderful word to roll off the tongue, but a gracious selling point for a plant. In the Midwest, our evergreens are mostly coniferous, along with the inevitable boxwood and occasional rhododendron and holly. Of course, not all evergreens are green, but it's the dominant shade in the neighborhood. Dried leaves give texture and richness to the evolving landscape. Plus, the shingle oak teases my neighbor endlessly by dropping a handful of leaves every day until March. I swear it's laughing at us in a rustling chuckle.
This year, we had a deep cold snap in the beginning of November and temperatures dropped into single digits rather abruptly. Many trees and shrubs were caught with their pants, er, their leaves on and they still stubbornly cling. The linden down the block normally lets its elegant pyramidal architecture show. Not this year. That lady is keeping her coat on as long as possible.
As you explore your landscape, what woody plants are bare-shouldered and which are still fully clothed?