The Tītoki is the glossy one, the show-off, the tree that looks like it spends hours in front of the mirror. Its leaves are compound – divided into several leaflets arranged like a hand – and each leaflet is thick, leathery, and incredibly shiny. The top surface is dark green and polished, reflecting the light like a mirror. The underside is paler, duller, but no one looks at the underside. The Tītoki knows where its strengths lie.
What makes it special? The fruit. The Tītoki produces clusters of small, woody capsules that split open when they are ripe to reveal a stunning treasure: a black, glossy seed sitting in a bright red, fleshy aril. The seed looks like a black pearl nestled in a red velvet cushion. The effect is striking – a flash of red and black against the dark green leaves.
The tree is dioecious – separate male and female trees. The females produce the fruit, but only if a male is nearby. The fruit is not edible for humans – the red aril is bitter, and the seed is hard – but the birds love it. The
kererū, the tūī, and the
kākā all feast on the red aril, swallowing the seed whole. The seed passes through the bird's gut and is deposited somewhere else. The Tītoki is a tree that travels on wings.
The wood of the Tītoki is dense, heavy, and beautifully figured. It was used by Māori for tools, for weapons, for the handles of adzes. It is a wood that does not split, does not crack, does not warp. A Tītoki tool handle could last for generations.
The bark is another clue. The Tītoki has a smooth, grey bark that is often mottled with patches of white lichen. The trunk is straight and cylindrical, not buttressed like the pukatea or twisted like the mountain tōtara. It is a tree of good posture, standing tall and straight in the lowland forest.
Biologically, the Tītoki is a tree of the light. It does not like deep shade. It grows in the gaps, the edges, the places where the sun reaches the forest floor. It is often found along stream banks, on the margins of clearings, in the regenerating bush where the canopy is open. It is a pioneer of the bright places, a tree that needs its own space.
To stand under a Tītoki in fruit is to stand under a tree of jewels. The red and black seeds hang in clusters, glittering in the dappled light. The leaves are glossy, the trunk is straight, the bark is smooth. It is a tree that knows how to dress for the occasion.
The Tītoki is not a king. It is not a warrior. It is the jeweller of the forest, the one with the glossy leaves and the precious seeds. It has been here for millennia. It will be here as long as the birds remember its treasure.