Honestly, most people treat landscaping like an afterthought. They head to a big-box store, grab whatever looks green, and call it a day. But if you’ve ever seen a Rising Sun Redbud in the middle of July, you know exactly why that’s a mistake. It’s not just a tree. It’s basically a biological light bulb that changes colors while your neighbor's maples are just sitting there being boring and green.
I remember the first time I saw one at a trial garden in West Virginia. It was a muggy afternoon, the kind where the air feels like a wet blanket. Most of the native Cercis canadensis were looking a bit ragged, but 'The Rising Sun' looked like it was plugged into an outlet. The new growth was this searing, electric apricot.
Ray Jackson of Jackson Nursery in Tennessee is the guy we have to thank for this. He found it as a chance seedling. Think about that for a second. Nature just occasionally spits out a masterpiece, and luckily, someone with an eye for detail was there to catch it. It wasn't some lab-grown GMO experiment; it was a fluke of nature that changed how we think about small flowering trees.
What is a Rising Sun Redbud anyway?
Let’s get the technical stuff out of the way. It’s a cultivar of the Eastern Redbud (Cercis canadensis). But unlike the standard native version, which has a pretty standard green leaf, this one is a color factory. You get those classic pea-like purple flowers in early spring—before the leaves even show up—which is great. But the real show starts when the foliage pops.
The new leaves come out in a deep, burnished orange. As they age, they transition to a bright yellow, and then eventually to a lime green. Because the tree is constantly putting out new growth throughout the summer, you end up with a gradient. You’ll see orange at the tips, yellow in the middle, and green toward the interior of the canopy.
It’s a literal sunset on a stick.
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Why it doesn't just fry in the sun
Here is where most people get tripped up. Usually, if a plant has yellow or "gold" leaves, it’s a total diva. You put it in the sun, and the leaf margins turn into crispy brown toast by late June. It’s frustrating. But 'The Rising Sun' is weirdly tough. It was bred (well, discovered) in the heat of Tennessee, so it handles the humidity and the UV better than almost any other gold-leafed variety like 'Hearts of Gold'.
That heat tolerance is a game changer for homeowners in Zone 6 or 7 who want that pop of color but don't want to spend their weekends misting a tree with a spray bottle.
Planting and the "Don't Kill It" Basics
Look, trees are an investment. You’re dropping $150 to $300 on a decent-sized specimen, so don't just dig a hole and hope for the best. Redbuds in general have a bit of a reputation for being finicky about their feet. They hate "wet feet." If you plant this in a low spot in your yard where water pools after a rainstorm, it will die. Period.
It wants well-drained soil. If you have heavy clay—which a lot of us do—you need to plant it slightly "high." Don't bury the root flare. Keep that flare (where the trunk widens at the base) visible above the soil line.
Sun requirements are a balancing act
- Full Sun: In northern climates (Zones 5 and 6), let it soak it up. The more sun, the more intense that orange-to-yellow gradient becomes.
- Part Shade: If you’re down south in Georgia or Texas, give it some afternoon relief. While it’s heat tolerant, the scorching 4:00 PM sun in July can still stress a young tree.
You've got to be patient with the growth rate. It’s not a silver maple; it won’t grow five feet in a year. Expect maybe 12 to 15 inches of growth annually. It tops out around 12 to 15 feet tall and wide, which makes it perfect for those tiny suburban lots where a massive oak would eventually crush the foundation.
The Disease Problem (Let's be real)
I’m not going to sit here and tell you the Rising Sun Redbud is invincible. It’s not. Redbuds, as a genus, are susceptible to Botryosphaeria canker and Verticillium wilt. It sounds scary because it kind of is. Canker looks like sunken, dead areas on the bark. If you see a branch suddenly die back while the rest of the tree looks fine, that’s usually the culprit.
How do you prevent it? Stress management.
Canker is an opportunistic jerk. It waits for the tree to be thirsty or wounded. Don't hit the trunk with your weed whacker. I see people do this all the time, and it’s basically giving the tree a death sentence. Use mulch to keep the mowers away. Also, water it during droughts. A stressed tree is a buffet for pathogens.
Landscape Design: Don't Make it Ugly
Since this tree is such a "look at me" plant, you have to be careful where you put it. If you plant it against a tan or beige house, the yellow leaves might disappear. It looks best against a dark background—think a dark grey siding, a brick wall, or a backdrop of deep green evergreens like Norway Spruce or 'Green Giant' Arborvitae.
The contrast makes the gold pop.
I’ve seen designers pair it with purple-leafed plants like 'Royal Purple' Smoke Bush or even a 'Forest Pansy' Redbud (the purple cousin). That combo of deep plum and electric orange is aggressive, but man, does it work. It feels intentional.
The Wildlife Factor
One thing people forget is that Redbuds are actually pretty important for local ecosystems. They are one of the first things to bloom in the spring. If you’re a hungry bee waking up in April, that Rising Sun Redbud is basically the first diner open on the highway. Specialist bees, like the blueberry bee and certain mason bees, rely on these nectar sources.
Even though this is a fancy "designer" version of the tree, it still provides that ecological value. The leaves are also a host for several moth larvae, which in turn feed the baby birds in your yard. It’s a win-win.
Common Misconceptions
People often ask if the leaves stay orange all year. No. If they did, the tree would probably die because it couldn't photosynthesize properly. The orange is the "new" growth. As the season progresses and the growth slows down, the tree will look more lime-green overall.
Another big one: "Does it produce messy beans?"
Yes, it can. Redbuds are in the pea family. They produce seed pods that look like flattened pea pods. Some people hate them; others don't mind. On 'The Rising Sun', the pod production is usually moderate, but you will see them hanging on the branches in winter.
Taking Action: Your 3-Step Success Plan
If you're sold on getting one of these, don't just wing it. Follow this sequence to ensure the tree actually survives its first three years, which is the "danger zone" for most new plantings.
1. Source from a reputable grower.
Don't buy a half-dead stick from a clearance rack. Look for a tree with a clear central leader (one main trunk going up) and no visible scars or "oozing" on the bark. If the roots are circling the pot like a coiled snake, ask for a different one or be prepared to prune those roots before planting.
2. The 2-2-2 Watering Rule.
For the first few weeks, water it every 2 days. For the next two months, water it twice a week. For the next two years, make sure it gets a deep soak every week if it hasn't rained. Most people kill trees by underwatering in the second year when they think the tree is "established." It's not.
3. Mulch, but don't "Volcano."
Apply a 2-3 inch layer of wood chips or shredded bark around the base, extending out to the drip line. But—and this is huge—keep the mulch a few inches away from the actual trunk. If the mulch touches the bark, it traps moisture and invites rot and rodents to chew on the tree.
4. Prune for structure early.
In the second or third year, look for "included bark" or narrow crotch angles where two branches are rubbing together. Snip one off. It’s much easier to fix a structural issue with a pair of hand pruners now than with a chainsaw ten years from now.
The Rising Sun Redbud is a rare example of a plant that actually lives up to the marketing hype. It offers three seasons of genuine visual interest without requiring a degree in horticulture to keep alive. Just keep it out of the swampy corners of your yard, give it some room to breathe, and let it do its thing.