Staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina) is interesting all year, but in fall it’s flame on! Its color rivals Chinese pistache, in a smaller, faster-growing multi-trunk tree with a more dramatic form and strange spiky red seed heads as a bonus.
The name staghorn sumac is appropriate. Not only do the branches spread like antlers, they’re even covered in velvet like young antlers. Branches grow until they produce a seed head, then branch out the next year.
From some quick research on the web, it seems this variety of sumac is not toxic, unlike some of its cousins. The web being what it is (funny, considering where you’re reading this), I even found a note saying it’s native to the Middle East (it’s not – this species is from the Midwest United States). The note goes on to say that you can grind the red berries and sprinkle them over your saffron rice, kabobs, koobideh, grilled chicken, whatever. Personally, I prefer to buy my ground sumac from our local Middle Eastern market – since my guess is that the ground spice comes from Sicilian sumac, Rhus coriaria or a Middle Eastern species, not R. typhina. Consider the plant strictly an ornamental unless you want to play guinea pig, since some of its cousins are rather nasty things to put in your mouth.
The good
Incredible fall color
In places like California’s Central Valley, this is an absolute top tree (shrub?) for fall color. It reliably turns various shades of flame, sequencing its leaves through the color palette before dropping them, for a long color period.
Relatively small (for a tree)
The plant – I still can’t decide if it’s a shrub, tree or a bit of both – stays relatively compact. Although in this case that doesn’t mean the same thing as low maintenance, at least it should not need topping to stay in scale with one story homes or offices.
Hardy & heat-resistant
Staghorn sumac resists temperatures cold enough to freeze most California ornamentals, and heat doesn’t bother it either.
Low water use
It’s indifferent as to water, even if some nurseries say it needs moderate water, others say it prefers a dry site. From our experience, it seems happier with a little water. Cutting off the tap seems to slow it down rather than harming it, at least in our water-retaining clay soil.
Multiple varieties
There are numerous varieties, some with finely dissected leaves. Some varieties have lime green leaves in addition to dissected leaves and all have spectacular fall color.
Tough plant
It’s tough, good for difficult places in hot sun and poor soil as long as there’s decent drainage. It supposedly does well in pots, a good way to contain its aggressive spreading – so perhaps a large pot in hot sun would make a good home for one of these trees.
The bad
Tough plant
It’s tough, so once it’s got a foothold it will resist all attempts to remove it. Left on their own, these plants want to form thickets. They’re always shooting up suckers somewhere, and if you ever plant one and decide to move it, you’ll have a lot of new plants poking up from the old location in springtime. Be prepared to regularly cut and pull suckers around the main plant, even ten feet away from the main trunk.
Needs pruning
This is a plant that needs some lopping, or you won’t have that open trunk any more. Branches need to be selectively removed in late spring or early summer to maintain the tree’s structure. Since they grow fast, you may need to make several passes before things calm down in midsummer and you can sit back, grill some kabobs and enjoy your tree.
Deciduous
If you were looking for something evergreen, this isn’t it. The tree however stands as an interesting silhouette in winter, retaining its seed heads at the tips of its branches.
Not much wildlife value
Birds don’t seem to go after the seeds, and it doesn’t seem to be a major wildlife plant. Its structure is too open for birds to feel hidden while roosting, and the flowers don’t seem especially attractive to our local insects.
Note: I’ve found the plant’s name spelled “Typhina” and “Typina” at one nursery. Typhina is the correct spelling, as far as I know – it’s what Annette and I both learned in plant identification (it grows well in France, too).