top of page
Paperbark Maple
Acer griseum
On May 11, 2026, the City planted a paperbark maple in an empty tree pit on 19th Street at the request of the Friends of Matthias Baldwin Park. This replaced a hawthorn that died very quickly in 2025 due to scale insects. Luckily, the Friends were able to save the other four hawthorns lining 19th Street.
Paperbark maple is a slow-growing, medium-sized ornamental maple with rust-colored peeling bark, which makes the tree of interest in the winter. Its Wikipedia entry is here. It joins two other maple species, red maple Acer rubrum and sugar maple Acer saccharum, of which there are two of each within the Park. There are also five red maples lining 18th Street.

Paperbark maple on 19th Street on planting day.
Paperbark maple factoids:
-
The fruits of the paperbark maple are those wind blown "helicopters," technically called samaras, seen in the fall.
-
Paperbark maples are usually androdioecious, meaning having male flowers on some trees and perfect flowers with male and female parts on other trees. If it has samaras on it, it has the perfect flowers with the female components.
-
The Friends generally prefer native species in our Level I certified arboretum, but will make an exception for endangered species. The paperbark maple is native to central China, but is threatened there by encroachment of cities and of agriculture. This habitat loss is the most common threat to all species, as discussed on our dawn redwood page, the dawn redwood being another threatened species from central China.
-
"Acer" is Latin for maple, derived from the Latin word for "sharp," perhaps from the use of maple wood for spears. "Griseum" is Latin for gray, denoting the color of the bark before peeling.

A twig and a few samaras from our tree on planting day in May.
This maple is easy to distinguish from other maples. The leaves are tripartite, with three leaflets on a single hairy petiole, and don't have the classic indents between the lobes of the leaf. The wings of the samaras form an acute angle to each other. Our tree, having samaras, has perfect flowers (i.e. male and female parts with the female parts bearing the fruit).
Also noted is the rare three seeded samara on the top right.

A photo of Triangle Square Park at Green Street and Pennsylvania Avenue near the Philadelphian Condos in May of 2026. Our tree friends there are expanding their collection of trees surrounding the Philadelphian and in 2025 planted this grouping of multitrunked paperbark maples. Note the beautiful color of the bark.
Botany 101 Bonus
To paraphrase Elizabeth Barrett Browning, dear trees: Why do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Trees convert carbon dioxide in the air into wood, thus removing this ever-increasing greenhouse gas from the atmosphere. This slows down the heating of our planet and hopefully gives more time for plant and animal species, including humans, to adapt. This is a future benefit which requires current planning.
In the near term and keeping it personal, the average tree releases enough oxygen to supply the oxygen needs of four people. Oxygen should be everyone's favorite gas.
Also in the near term, trees ameliorate the heat island effect in cities, keeping us cooler. They provide shade which prevents the sun's rays from baking the soil and concrete, and us. We planted only deciduous trees along the north side of the park along the NxNW townhomes. These trees provide shade in the summer and allow the sun's rays to heat up those homes in winter. There is one evergreen along that northern fence, a black pine, but that was planted in 1991, twenty-five years before the townhomes were built. We do like conifers, so we planted a bald cypress and a dawn redwood in that section, but these conifers are deciduous and still act like the deciduous hardwoods.
Trees also transpire. A tree absorbs soil water via its roots. This water rises in thin tubes within the tree and is released through tiny openings in the leaves. At these tiny openings, called stomata, the molecules of water in the liquid phase absorb enough heat to break bonds holding them together. The liquid water becomes a gas. This absorption of heat to provide this phase change is one reason it feels so much cooler in the park than on the street. It feels cooler because it is cooler!
Studies support what we already know: trees make us feel good. Although it's difficult to prove which is cause and which is effect, neighborhoods with trees have lower crime rates, less antisocial behavior, less litter and graffiti, and happier residents. As discussed on our Darwin in Baldwin Park page, humans evolved in the forest and most of our ape relatives still live there. We have a subconscious affinity for woods and our spirits are rejuvenated there.
City folks tend to be dissociated from food sources, but let's not forget that trees provide food. The only crabapple in the park that bears fruit that approaches the two-inch diameter requirement to be called an apple is in the southeast corner of the park. Its fruit is quite tart, but suitable for applesauce and cider if one were so inclined. The other crabapples are miniscule. The contorted filbert rarely bears fruit and the purple-leaf plum even more rarely. But we should not be so human-centric. The white oak and red oak provide acorns to the squirrels. The hawthorns, sweetgum, pagoda tree, golden rain, dogwoods, magnolias, all the conifers -- all provide nourishing fruit or seeds to the birds, and/or pollen or nectar for the bees and butterflies.
Humans cherish art. Baldwin Park, the entire two-acre park, is a Percent for Art installation designed by Athena Tacha and dedicated in 1992. The artistry is in the design of the central planting beds with the evocative granite plinths, but also in the trees selected for planting. Sitting on a bench is a contemplative experience when surrounded by the beauty of the trees, one reason Baldwin Park is listed first in a list of best outdoor places to meditate in Philadelphia. The witch hazel bears flowers in the cold winter months, but the other trees really throw off the winter in April and May, bringing smiles of anticipation of sunnier days. In autumn the color changes are beautiful, but like memento mori symbols in still life paintings, remind us that life and beauty are evanescent.

Cherry in southeast triangle in April, looking east, with the boughs drooping with the weight of the flowers.

Still life with trees in November. The yellow, orange, and gold will disappear come gray December.
bottom of page
