The Wineberry is the soft one, the fast one, the tree that looks like it is in a hurry. Its leaves are large, soft, and deeply toothed – like the leaves of a grape vine or a maple. They are bright green on top and paler underneath, and they are arranged opposite each other along the branch. The leaves are not tough like the rātā or leathery like the karo. They are soft, almost floppy, and they catch the light.
What makes it special? The speed. The Wineberry is one of the fastest-growing native trees in New Zealand. It can put on two or three metres of height in a year when it is young, racing towards the light. It is a pioneer, a coloniser, a tree that takes advantage of disturbance. When a slip clears a hillside or a tree falls in the forest, the Wineberry is often the first to appear. Its seeds are carried by birds, dropped in the open gap, and they germinate quickly in the bright light.
The flowers are another clue. The Wineberry produces clusters of small, pinkish-red flowers in spring. They are not large – each flower is maybe a centimetre across – but they are produced in profusion, and they are heavily scented. The flowers are a magnet for insects – bees, flies, beetles – which are the tree's primary pollinators.
The fruit is a small, dark red or black berry, about the size of a pea. The berries are produced in abundance in summer and are a favourite food of the
kererū, the tūī, and the
bellbird. The birds eat the berries, digest the flesh, and carry the seeds to new locations. The Wineberry is a tree that depends on its feathered gardeners.
The leaves of the Wineberry have another secret. When they are crushed, they smell like green apples – a fresh, sweet scent that is surprisingly strong. Rub a leaf between your fingers and you will smell it. The tree is sometimes called "New Zealand currant" because of its fruit, but "wineberry" is the common name that stuck.
The wood of the Wineberry is light, soft, and pinkish-brown. It was used by Māori for tools, for the handles of adzes, for the frames of houses. It is not a strong wood, but it is easy to work. The tree is too small and too scattered to be commercially valuable.
Biologically, the Wineberry is a short-lived tree. It grows fast, lives fast, and dies young. A Wineberry might live for 50 or 60 years – a blink of an eye in the forest. It races towards the light, produces its flowers and fruit, and then fades away as the slower giants – the rimu, the tōtara, the kahikatea – overtop it. It is a tree of the moment, a tree of the gap, a tree that lives in the fast lane.
To stand under a Wineberry in fruit is to stand under a tree of dark berries. The leaves are soft, the branches are low, the fruit is hanging in clusters. The birds are feeding, the insects are buzzing, the leaves are smelling of green apples. It is a tree of the edge, the gap, the place where the forest is healing.
The Wineberry is not a king. It is not a warrior. It is the pioneer, the fast one, the tree of the gap. It has been here for millennia. It will be here as long as there are gaps to fill.