If you’ve ever tried to draw a tree and ended up with something that looked more like broccoli on a stick—you're in good company.
This guide is here to help you move past that stuck feeling. To take you from “Where do I even start?” to sketching trees that feel grounded, organic, and alive.
Whether you’re just picking up coloured pencils for the first time, or coming back after a frustrating try, we’ll take it step by step.
No pressure. No guesswork. Just clear guidance, quiet wins, and skills that grow with you
Before you get caught up in texture or tiny details, take a step back.
Start with the shape.
The sketch above shows a few common tree shapes—each with its own branching style and overall structure.
Some trees shoot straight up with narrow angles, like pines or poplars. Others spread wide and low, like oaks. Some have a loose, airy shape, while others are dense and compact.
Notice how the branches grow. Do they reach up, stretch out, or droop down? Do they split off in pairs, or twist unpredictably?
These are the kinds of patterns that give a tree its character—and make your drawing feel believable, even if it’s loosely sketched.
You don’t need to capture every twig. Just get a feel for how it’s built.
The trunk is your anchor.
It’s the backbone of the tree—thicker at the base, slowly tapering as it rises toward the sky.
From there, the branches stretch and shift. Some reach straight up. Others bend low or curve gently outward, shaped by wind, light, and time.
As you look at real trees - on a walk, in the garden, even out the window - notice how they grow.
Some split early into strong, thick limbs. Others stay narrow and upright, with only the lightest twigs dancing at the top.
Every tree grows in its own way. Your drawing should reflect that.
And here’s something that helps: stop thinking in lines. Start seeing the tree as a shape in space—full of weight, balance, and movement.
You don’t have to get it perfect. Just let your pencil follow that natural rhythm: steady… then reaching… then softening at the tips.
The canopy can be dense or airy, with "sky holes" between leaf clusters.
By capturing these characteristics your drawing and painting skills will improve.
This is where things get interesting.
Up close, trees reveal a whole world of texture—bark that peels or splits, moss clinging to the shaded side, patches of lichen, subtle shifts in colour and tone.
But don’t let it overwhelm you. You’re not aiming for perfection. You’re aiming to suggest—to capture just enough to make the tree feel alive.
One place to pay special attention is the trunk.
It anchors the whole structure, but it’s easy to misjudge its size—especially in proportion to the branches and foliage. Sometimes we draw it too chunky. Other times, too slender. Either way, it can throw the whole tree off.
Take a moment to look at real examples, or flip through a tree guide if you have one.
Notice how wide the trunk is compared to the crown. How it narrows, where it splits, how it holds the weight of the tree.
It’s a small thing, but it makes a big difference in how believable your drawing feels.
Start simple.
Ask yourself: does the bark feel rough or smooth? Are the lines mostly vertical, or does the surface crack and twist?
You don’t need to draw every groove. Use pencil strokes - like hatching, crosshatching, or soft shading - to suggest texture, not mimic it.
What matters is how the bark feels. Rugged. Ancient. Peeling. Patterned. Your pencils can echo that feeling through the rhythm of your marks.
Try layering strokes. Vary your pressure. Let some areas stay light, and deepen others to create a sense of depth and irregularity. Bark is full of surprises—grooves, ridges, knots, and cracks that shift with age and weather.
It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just believable. That’s what gives it life.
Learn more about the different colored pencil strokes you can use here.
The colours of bark might surprise you.
Silvers, ochres, soft greys, rusty reds. Even hints of violet hiding in the shadows. Tree trunks aren’t just brown—they’re layered with subtle, shifting tones.
Use soft pressure and gentle layering to blend these colours gradually. This builds depth and richness without getting lost in the detail.
If you want to go deeper into layering techniques, you’ll find more on my coloured pencil layering page.
And take your time observing older trees. Weathered trunks often carry the marks of age—darkened knots, hollows, rough scars, twisted grain. Signs of a life shaped by seasons, storms, and slow change.
All of that tells a story. Let your pencils tell it too.
Each tree species has its own way of branching—some balanced and symmetrical, others wild, uneven, almost chaotic.
Sketching that structure isn’t about getting every limb exactly right. It’s about observing the angles, the rhythm, the way the branches grow and reach.
Don’t rush it. Let your pencil follow the flow of growth—upward, outward, sometimes downward. Watch how the branches divide, how they hold space.
It’s not a formula. It’s a gesture.
You don’t need to draw every leaf.
Instead, try this: squint your eyes. What stands out?
Light. Shadow. Texture.
Group the leaves into clusters—shapes of tone and colour rather than individual outlines. Suggest volume through contrast. Let your eye, and your viewer’s, do some of the work.
Each season brings its own palette to the foliage.
Spring and summer bring deep greens and fresh yellows. Autumn shifts into fiery reds, soft golds, rich browns. Even winter, when trees are bare, has colour—silvery branches, pale light, cool shadows.
Texture matters too. Some leaves are smooth and glossy. Others are jagged, veined, or curled at the edges.
By varying your pencil marks—sharp, soft, broken, layered—you can hint at those textures. That detail adds depth and breathes life into your drawing.
Trees don’t live in a vacuum. They’re part of a bigger story.
A tree growing alone in a field looks different from one in a dense forest. The way the branches spread, how the light hits, even the shape of the trunk—it all shifts depending on what’s around it.
Consider its surroundings. Are there grasses at the base? Wildflowers? Rocks, shadows, tangled undergrowth? Maybe a bird perched on a branch, or a distant hill just behind.
You don’t need to draw everything. Just a few small hints can give your tree a sense of place—helping the viewer feel the scale, the mood, the season.
Context doesn’t just frame the tree. It helps it breathe.
Drawing trees isn’t about getting it perfect—it’s about learning to see.
The more you observe, the more you’ll notice: the curves, the cracks, the colours. The quiet rhythm of how a tree grows.
Sketch what you see—not what you think a tree should look like.
Over time, your drawings will start to feel more confident. More expressive. More real.
And if your first few trees don’t turn out the way you hoped? That’s okay. That’s part of it. Each sketch is a step forward.
So go outside. Find a tree. Start small.
Let it show you how to draw it.
Whether it’s your first tree or your tenth, each time you put pencil to paper, you’re building something—skill, trust, and a way of seeing that stays with you.
Find a tree you can sit with for a little while—something close to home. It doesn’t need to be grand or unusual. Just present.
Start by drawing its overall shape. Don’t worry about detail. Just the silhouette.
Then look closer. Notice how the trunk meets the ground. How the branches split. Where the light hits, and where the shadows gather.
Add one or two hints of its surroundings—a patch of grass, a fence, a passing bird. Nothing complex. Just enough to place it in the world.
Take your time. This isn’t about finishing a perfect drawing. It’s about learning to see—and letting your pencil follow.
If you’d like to keep going, there are other tutorials across the site where trees appear—sometimes in a field, sometimes by water, sometimes tucked into a wider landscape. They’ll give you more chances to practice trees in context, one scene at a time.