The marcescence of Fagus grandifolia.

When I began taking photographs again, in 2005, one of my first subjects was sunlight through winter beech leaves.

Much of the Eastern forest consists of American Beech (Fagus grandifolia), often in conjunction with Sugar Maples, and so they form a central part of my formative landscape. And for years I have been fascinated by their principle quirk: Marcescence.

The beech is deciduous, they say, but in an odd fashion: Beech leaves are often marcescent – which is to say that they die and brown and shrivel in the fall like proper deciduous leaves, but they don’t fall off. Instead, they linger through the winter until new spring leaves take their place.

This habit – and its precise causes are unknown – makes the beech and its translucent leaves a defining element of the Northeastern forest in winter.

The taxonomic family within which botanists place the beech, and to which it lends its name, is Fagaceae. And a large and wonderful family it is, including the prolific oak and tanoak genera (Quercus and Lithocarpus), the chinkapins (Castanopsis and Chrysolepis), and the chestnuts (Castanea). Fagus even gives its name to its botanical order: Fagales, whose members are distributed all over the world. But of Fagus proper, only grandifolia and mexicana are native to North America, and none are native west of Wisconsin.

Earlier this month I was again in New England, and found myself once more captivated by sunlight through beech leaves. The light came through in drips and drops this time, revealing the lush yellow greenness of the young foliage.