Skunk Cabbage
Lysichiton americanum
Copyright © 2006
Joan Gerteis
This past late winter into spring found me once a gain raising binoculars and halleluljahs to a truly glorious plant: Skunk Cabbage.
Along a dike walk on Fir Island, and then driving south to Everett on I-5: there they were in marshy areas. Then later at Camano Island State Park, across the road from the picnic shelter, I was reminded of one winter into spring day how aghast I was to see two women hoisting a large blue tarp laden with blooming Skunk Cabbages, accompanied by their shovels, into the trunk of their car. I was also outraged-saddened, knowing that the plants would not productively transplant--that they had been maliciously taken from their supportive, comfy natural habitat.
But usually, annually, I am fortunate to be able to gaze long at their luminescent-appearing yellow tones, which are so eye-catching, as most of the flowering plant world around them is still slumbering.
Another common name which alludes to the brilliance of their early blooms, not too surprisingly, is Swamp Lantern.
Preferring, yes, swamps marshes, bogs, and wet places such as areas behind beach berms (back portions), they are often the first of a new year's color palette to appear. And they announce their appearance with great gusto, showiness and drama-nothing shy and retiring about Skunk Cabbage!
They begin their debut along about February when a stalk with small tightly positioned yellow-green flowers will appear, along with the far more noticeable and colorful surrounding yellow hood, made up of modified leaves-the "lanterns".
Later the leaves begin growing from the base-and growing-and growing-and growing! Massive, monster leaves-shiny, tropical-looking green leaves, which can attain lengths of three, four, even five feet across-qualifying them as the largest leaves of any Northwest terrestrial native plant.
Why skunk?, you may ask. Although I think you know the answer.
Well, to observe then in their infancy or youthful days, to move in closer, their characteristic aroma won't be bothersome-some consider it quite sweet. However, later on, should you encounter older, wilting, dying flowers: bruised, damaged or crushed stems: the full stench will definitely grab your attention-is quite rank and unpleasant-downright offensive. It's the sap you see, and the fetid flowers which have given the Skunk Cabbages their common name.
And what have we here? A throng of insects "gathering 'round".
However, the insect assemblage most definitely is not all bad. Some, such as flies, honeybees and beetles, are very effective pollinators-picking up pollen and dispersing it about-contributing to new growth.
Native Americans found innumerable uses for Skunk Cabbage. Their gargantuan leaves made them useful in steaming-pits and as cleaning areas for food preparation. And the folded leaves could be fashioned into cups, containers, and baskets.
Medicinally, when heated, they were felt to give comfort to rheumatic joints, wounds, and inflammations.
Rarely eaten raw because they contained irritating calcium carbonate crystals, in time of a spring famine the irritation of using the roots as a foodstuff could be reduced by drying and grinding them into flour or steaming and roasting them.
Less than a "ho-hummer", early-appearing Skunk Cabbage is a favorite of mine and many other plant enthusiasts. Be on the lookout for these bright lanterns of the swamp.
Pat Nash
Beach Watcher
Class of '94