The Karo is the tough one, the grey one, the tree that wears a raincoat to the beach. Its leaves are thick, leathery, and covered in a dense mat of greyish-white hairs – especially on the underside. The top surface is dark green and slightly glossy, but the overall effect is grey, as if the tree has been dusted with ash or bleached by the salt. This hairy coating is the Karo's secret weapon. It traps moisture, reflects the harsh sunlight, and protects the leaf from the drying, burning effects of the salt spray. The Karo shrugs off the sea like a duck shrugs off water.
What makes it special? The toughness. The Karo is a pioneer of the exposed shore. It is often the first tree to colonise a coastal cliff or a dune, its roots spreading wide and shallow to anchor it in the shifting sand. It grows low and bushy in the open, a small tree of 5 to 8 metres, with a thick, spreading canopy that blocks the wind. In sheltered spots, it can grow taller – up to 12 metres – but on the exposed coast, it stays low, compact, and dense.
The flowers are another clue. The Karo produces clusters of small, bell-shaped flowers in spring. The flowers are dark red, almost purple, and they are heavily scented – a sweet, spicy perfume that carries on the wind. At night, the scent attracts moths, which are the tree's primary pollinators. The Karo is a tree of the night, of the dark hours when the wind drops and the sea is quiet.
The fruit is a small, woody capsule that splits open to reveal a sticky, black seed surrounded by a bright red, fleshy pulp. The seeds are eaten by birds – the
kererū, the tūī, the
silvereye – which carry them to new locations. The Karo is a tree that travels on wings.
The wood of the Karo is dense and heavy, but the tree is rarely large enough to be useful for timber. Its value is in its resilience. It is the tree that holds the coast together, the tree that stands where others fall.
Biologically, the Karo is a member of the Pittosporum family – a group of trees and shrubs that are known for their tough, leathery leaves and their sweetly scented flowers. The Karo is the toughest of them all, the one that has pushed furthest into the salt zone.
To stand near a Karo on a windy day is to stand near a tree that does not care about the wind. The leaves are grey, the branches are low, the trunk is thick. The salt spray drifts over it, the wind howls around it, the sun beats down on it. The Karo does not flinch. It has been here for centuries. It will be here for centuries more.
The Karo is not a king. It is not a warrior. It is the sentinel of the shore, the grey one, the one that wears a raincoat to the beach. It has been here for millennia. It will be here as long as the sea keeps spraying.