SCOTT SHALAWAY The fascinating small trees of fall

Early October brought the first hard frost to the ridge this year. We've had several more since, and each has sent me in search of persimmons, which ripen after a few cold nights.
Persimmon, a small tree that rarely gets 50 feet tall, is inconspicuous most of the year. In September, its fruits become obvious, but they appear only on female trees. (Persimmon trees are dioecious, either male or female, and fruits form only from female flowers.)
Initially, persimmons are green, hard, and inedible. Bite one in September, and your mouth will pucker for hours. After a few hard frosts, though, persimmons ripen and sweeten. They turn yellow, then orange. When the skin wrinkles, and the meat gets mushy, persimmons are ready to eat.
But ripe persimmons don't last long in the wild. Fruit-eating birds such as pileated woodpeckers, mockingbirds, robins, bluebirds, and waxwings love them, opossums climb the highest branches for the harvest, and foxes and coyotes gobble those that fall to the ground.
Check coyote and fox droppings in the fall, and often you'll find persimmon seeds that have passed through these canids' digestive systems unscathed. It's a trip, in fact, that helps the seeds germinate in the spring.
To propagate persimmons, collect some seeds from ripe fruits (or canid scats), remove the pulp, and air dry for two days. Then sow the seeds about a half-inch deep in a rich soil bed and mulch for the winter.
The aroma of paw-paws
A second inconspicuous fruit-bearing tree caught my attention this year, thanks to a listener of my weekly radio show. He delivered a bag of pawpaws to the studio a few weeks ago. By the time I got home that day, the cab of my truck was filled with the pleasant aroma of ripening pawpaws.
Over the course of two weeks the large fleshy fruits, which range from three to five inches long, turned from green to brown to almost black, and the skin wrinkled. When ripe, pawpaws are relished by opossums, raccoons, and squirrels. The seeds, protected by tasty orange flesh, resemble inch-long beans.
Pawpaws are members of the tropical custard-apple family. They can grow to a height of 40 feet and are recognized by their large six- to 12-inch leaves and two-inch flowers that morph from green to brown to purple.
An eye-catcher
Another small tree that catches my eye in November is witch-hazel. After its leaves fall, it blooms. Its spindly yellow flowers are easy to recognize because the petals are thin and twisted, and its the only fall-blooming tree in the woods. Just before it flowers, last year's seed capsules explode and scatter the seeds as far as 20 feet. Turkey, grouse, bobwhite, and ring-necked pheasants eat witch-hazel seeds.
A final fall tree that always catches my attention is Osage orange. Originally native to the southern plains states, it has become naturalized east of the Mississippi River.
Living fences
Before the invention of barbed wire, thorny osage orange trees were planted as living fences to keep livestock from wandering. Its wood was also a favorite among early archers and bow makers, including members of the Osage tribe. Its wood is stronger than white oak and tougher than hickory.
Earlier French explorers called it bois d'arc, meaning bow wood. This explains its other common names, bowdark and bowwood.
The reason I notice bois d'arc each fall, however, relates to its fruit rather than its wood. Its large green or greenish-yellow grapefruit-sized fruits are conspicuous after leaf fall while on the tree or on the ground. The fruit's surface is covered by convoluted fissures that bring to mind the image of a human brain.
The fruits also explain two other common names for the plant -- mock orange and hedge apple.
Though we typically notice most plants in the spring and summer, some such as persimmon, pawpaw, witch-hazel, and osage orange save their most telling traits for fall. Keep your eyes open to meet some of the area's most fascinating small trees.
sshalaway@aol.com.