The name Larch may come from an old Alpine word linked to resin and lye, hinting at how useful its sap once was. The Latin name ๐ฟ๐๐๐๐ฅ is ancient, recorded by Pliny, and ๐๐๐๐๐๐ข๐ simply means โfallingโ or โtending to drop,โ which describes its unusual habit of losing needles like a broadleaf tree.
Known locally as Mรฉlรจze or Lariks, Larch surprises people by being a conifer that goes bare in winter. Most conifers hang onto their green needles as if hoarding them for dear life, but larch turns cheerful gold in autumn and lets every single one flutter to the ground. The needles feel soft, never prickly, and fall in little tufts that look like confetti from a woodland party.
It is not native to the Forรชt de Soignes. Larix decidua comes from the Alps and Carpathians and was planted here for timber. It grows straight, strong and fast, so foresters liked it, but it never truly blended in with the beech, oak or hazel. You usually find it in tidy lines or odd patches where someone once had a forestry experiment.
In spring, the fresh needles smell lightly resinous if you rub them between your fingers. The tree also makes tiny pinkish flowers that look like miniature sugared cupcakes, easy to miss unless you know they are there. Later, neat little cones appear, like wooden roses that stay stuck to the twigs long after they have dried out.
So if you see a conifer glowing golden and dropping everything, it is larch. A rule-breaker in the world of evergreens, quite happy doing the opposite of what everyone expects, and looking good while doing it.