UW Medicinal Herb Garden Blog

It’s getting harder to keep up with everything that is flowering. The pictures in this post are a fraction of what has come into bloom.  Recent warm weather and a little rain have been ideal. Compared to the last two springs, this has been easy so far.

Leuzea carthamoides (maralroot) section B

From northeast Asia, maralroot is considered an adaptogen and has been used by Russian and Chinese athletes to improve recovery after intense physical activity.

Fremontodendron californicum ( fremontia, flannel bush) border areas

Native to California and Arizona, fremontia does well in protected, relatively sunny, well-drained spots in Seattle. They’re evergreen, the flowers last a long time and the inner bark has been used to treat irritated skin and mucous membrane. Ironically, the fuzzy outer bark causes irritation of skin and mucous membrane.

Lilium columbianum (Columbia lily) section A

Growing in our western mountains, from British Columbia to California, Columbia lily bulbs and flowers are edible. Native Americans have traditionally eaten the bulbs, usually either steamed in pits or mashed, dried into cakes and stored for winter use.

Saussurea costus (mu xiang, kushtha, kutha) section A

Known in Traditional Chinese Medicine by its Chinese name, mu xiang, and in Ayurvedic Medicine by its Indian names, kushtha or kutha, Saussurea costus is used to treat a wide range of digestive and respiratory ailments and other illnesses. Oil extracted from the roots is an ingredient in some perfumes. Like so many medicinal plants, Saussurea costus has been overharvested in its native habitat, in this case the Himalayas. Luckily, it is being grown commercially which brings the price down so there’s not as much economic incentive to harvest from wild populations of the plant. We’ve seen the same problem in the USA with American ginseng (Panax quinquefolius) and goldenseal (Hydrastis canadensis)  and other plants. Hopefully, all over the world, more people will start commercially growing their native medicinal plants to help take the pressure off the endangered wild populations.

Arisaema triphyllum (Jack in the pulpit) section E

If you look closely, you will see Jack in his pulpit.

Wyethia angustifolia (narrow-leaf mule’s ears) section C

For springtime glory, mule’s ears (Wyethia spp.) gives balsamroot (Balsamorhiza spp.) a run for its money and grows well on the west side of the Cascades in full sun and well-drained soil. Native Americans used leaves and roots medicinally and ground the seeds for pinole.

Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow) section D

Give this globemallow plenty of sun and a very well-drained soil and leave it alone. It’s a credit to any rock garden.

Rosa gallica (French rose) section B

Yes, it gets black spot and rust and it suckers like crazy, but who cares! The beauty and fragrance are all that matters. The French rose is in a bed adjacent to the Chinese peonies and their flowering times overlap. Don’t miss them.

Paeonia lactiflora (common peony, bai shao) section B.

Like many good things in life, peony flowers don’t as last long as we’d like, so take the time to savor them. If you come to look,  get close enough to sample their scent, more subtle than the French rose but a perfect complement and prelude. Just as these flowers start to wane, the French roses hit their peak.

Dodecatheon jeffreyi (Sierra shooting star) section A

I once came across a whole meadow of Sierra shooting star, flowering in a meadow along the upper reaches of Ingalls Creek Valley on the east slopes of the Washington Cascades, a very nice surprise in early summer.

Leptospermum scoparium (manuka) section D border

The bees of New Zealand make a potent honey from manuka flowers. The shrub can grow to 15 feet or more in New Zealand. I’d be happy to get mine to 15 inches. Our short but extreme cold spells have really knocked them back the last few years. I should cover them as I do the olives and capers. Resolved! This year I will.

Catharanthus roseus (Madagascar periwinkle) section C

Vincristine and vinblastine, two of the alkaloids found in Madagascar periwinkle, are used to effectively treat various cancers, including childhood leukemia.

Tragopogon porrifolius (salsify, oyster plant) Section C

Scorzonera hispanica (Spanish salsify, black salsify) section C

They’re both called salsify and their roots, flowers, spring growth and seeds are edible. Tragopogon porrifolius roots are considered a food medicine to treat liver and gallbladder conditions.

Thymus vulgaris (common thyme) border between sections A and B

Common or not, thyme is a very important culinary herb and medicine with antibacterial and antifungal properties. It should be growing in every yard in the country. It’s easy to grow. Once established in a sunny spot, you can forget about it until you need it. Mediterranean herbs, where would we be without them?

Olea europea (olive) section A border

The flowers aren’t big or exciting, but consider how diminished our lives would be without olives or olive oil. Though it has contenders, if any plant is fit to represent the Mediterranean region, it is the olive. I’m growing three cultivars, Arbequina and Manzanillo from Spain, and a Leccino from Italy. May the olive trees of the world live long and be fruitful.

grey-green olive tree

add grapes and figs and almonds

then briny sea breeze

See you in the garden.

As an attentive observer of birds, it pains me that my little point-and-shoot camera, perfectly fine for flower shots, cannot do justice to the beautiful birds of the Medicinal Herb Garden. Luckily, Emile Pitre, Associate Vice President at the UW Office of Minority Affairs and Diversity, has been skillfully photographing the flora and fauna of the garden for several years. Emile is a very patient man; whether on the trail of bees, butterflies or birds, his calm, quiet persistence is enviable and serves as a reminder to me to settle myself and be more observant. Emile volunteered his wonderful photographs of some representatives of the Medicinal Garden birds for this post. Thank you, Emile.

The Medicinal Herb Garden has a lot of features that birds find favorable. There’s a variety of large and small trees, shrubs and clumps of herbaceous perennials to perch on, observe from and hide in. Food is plentiful, from berries, seeds, insects, arthropods and annelids to food waste left behind by careless humans; and there’s water. Water is a magnet for most animals and birds are no exception. I’ve had hummingbirds hover to drink at the stream cascading from my watering can. When the irrigation heads start spraying water in the garden beds, mixed flocks of bushtits (Psaltriparus minimus) and black-capped chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) arrive in the safely sheltered areas of the garden to drink and bathe. Every year a pair of mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) takes up residence in spring, near the cistern in Cascara Circle.

Sagittaria latifolia (wapato) Cascara Circle

They feed in the stream that runs to the bog, so I’ve put wire mesh over the wapato (Sagittaria latifolia). Ducks love wapato tubers and they would eat them all if they could.

Poecile atricapillus (black-capped chickadee)

Many of Emile’s pictures were taken in Cascara Circle. If you visit the garden, stop for a rest there by the water, have a seat on the grass or on the new bench and take a few deep breaths to slow yourself down and quiet your mind. It won’t take long before you notice movement all around. Suddenly appearing out of thin air, birds add a delightful and mysterious element of fluidity in the garden, .

They are obviously aware of fairly predictable actions and watch closely. When I begin preparing a bed for planting, I will quickly receive a visit from a guest, ready to eat whatever is unearthed and attempts to crawl away. Usually, the visitor is a crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) or a robin (Turdus migratorius). Some are quite trusting and, as long as my actions express nonchalance, they will shadow me, an arm’s length away.

Corvus brachyrhynchos (American crow)

Smart, wily, mischievous, the American crow is ever observant and a quick learner. Love them or hate them, they’re an impressive and entertaining bird. And, if you know what’s good for you, don’t get too close to their fledgelings. The adults are boldly protective of their young, occasionally making physical contact with the heads of intrusive humans. If they’re menacing you on your visit to the garden in spring, simply hold your hand up over your head and they will leave you alone.

Turdus migratorius (American robin) This one is likely getting ready to build another nest after the rascally crows got into the last one.

The humble robins, how lucky we are to have them around. Their commonness masks their greatness. Beautiful singers, welcoming the day before first light, at home in remote mountains and city parks, guileless victims of raiding crows who eat their eggs, the buoyant robins are remarkably successful. They simply start over and get on with it when disaster strikes. If I had my way, they’d be our national bird.

Cyanocitta stelleri (Steller’s jay)

The jaunty Steller’s jays are strikingly beautiful, statuesque birds that always seem out of place,  like they hopped out of a Gaugin or Rousseau painting and are mystified by their new land. Though related to crows they seem nearly as inquisitive but slightly less mischievous. Ever ready to alert the world to a nearby threat (real or imaginary), their brash, screechy vocalizations are strangely endearing. They and the crows are the predator early warning system of the Medicinal Herb Garden.

Pipilo maculatus (spotted towhee)

After scuffing about in the underbrush, its usual habitat, this towhee is taking a well-earned bath.

Colaptes auratus (northern flicker)

Their exotic calls, dazzling plumage and large size make flickers unmistakeable. I’m always looking for their brilliant orange and black tail feathers on the forest floor.

Junco hyemalis (dark-eyed junco)

The dark-eyed juncos are all around. We have a pair that have taken up residence in the greenhouse. They’ve made themselves quite at home and we all hope they’ll stay.

Calypte anna (Anna’s hummingbird)

A miracle with wings, these tiny hummingbirds manage to survive our winters.

Sitta canadensis (red-breasted nuthatch). There is a line in the Grateful Dead song, ‘Eyes of the World’, which starts out, ‘Wondering where the nuthatch winters…’. Well, there are about 28 species of nuthatch throughout Eurasia and North America. So the nuthatch, all are in the genus Sitta, winters in many places, though few migrate for winter.

The red-breasted nuthatches can often be seen going up and down the furrowed bark of conifers, finding tiny insects and other things to eat. Sometimes they will visit the Cascara Circle bog with the golden-crowned kinglets (Regulus satrapa) and brown creepers (Certhia americana). All three species seem to do well in each other’s company, high up in big, old conifers. Look for them in the deodar cedar trees (Cedrus deodara) near Cascara Circle.

Piranga ludoviciana (western tanager)

Finally, a spring visitor to Cascara Circle every year, the western tanager is an eye catcher and a sure sign that it is May. They wisely spend their winters in southern Mexico and Central America, then come north for the summer. We should all be so lucky!

I’ll do my best to talk Emile into taking more bird photos. These represent a small sample of Medicinal Herb Garden birds. Some stay all year and some are here for a day. But their flitting presence is a gift and an integral part of the Medicinal Herb Garden’s allure.

envying the birds

lifting off into thin air

just once to try it

See you in the garden.

I recently had the chance to talk to UW entomologist Evan Sugden. In addition to teaching traditional entomology classes, Evan teaches a class on scientific beekeeping. It’s not just because I get a jar of delicious honey at the end of the season that I think Evan’s beekeeping class is an excellent idea.

He’s combining a very practical skill, beekeeping, with the scientific study of bees and, among other things, how they react to an increasingly toxic environment and loss of habitat and what strategies we can use to help them. A beekeeping class seems like a good way to get students who might otherwise not take science classes to try one out and get some exposure to both theory and practice. The synthesis of the two is sometimes lacking for undergraduates in academia. The bees kept by Evan and his students are frequent and welcome guests in the Medicinal Herb Garden. Without their hard work and the work of other pollinators, the garden would be a desolate place before long.

Evan Sugden hard at work, catching insects in the Medicinal Herb Garden.

We hear much about the afflictions of bees. Perhaps we should pay special heed to their woes. Could they be our modern-day canary in the coal mine? Evan generously consented to answer by email, a few questions about bees.

1  What are the biggest threats to honeybees?

1)    Imported natural enemies acting alone and in synergy. The central culprit is the Varroa mite, now ubiquitous, which transmits viruses. In our area the second most serious biotic threat is Nosema ceranae, a new species of a traditional disease, more virulent than before. Colony Collapse Disorder (a.k.a. “Disappearing Disease”) is likely the result of several such factors acting together, perhaps in concert with pesticides.

2)    Pesticides. New chemicals and new formulations of old ones continue to threaten bees. Pesticides are ever more widely used throughout the world and as agriculture expands and becomes more monopolized, their use has become more monolithic. However, urban areas have as much or more pesticide load because of irresponsible homeowner use. Research is showing that micro quantities of poison, not enough to kill an adult bee, can be enough to kill a tiny bee larva. The deadly connection between bees and pesticides has yet to be fully appreciated.

3)    Loss of forage habitat. Removal of wild flowering plants by agriculture and urban sprawl has reduced the potential forage and contributed to lowered nutrition.

4)    Management and breeding issues. In large-scale beekeeping, honey bees are worked and moved so much that they become stressed and more susceptible to disease. The importance of varied diet (many flower species) has been forgotten. The gene pool of honey bees in North America is very limited, so breeding new strains of disease-resistant bees is difficult.

2  What can non-beekeeping citizens do to help honeybees?

1)    LEARN. Learn about pollinators and their importance; teach others, especially children.

2)    GO ORGANIC. Avoid pesticide use.

3)    SUPPORT. Support local beekeepers and organic agriculture.

3  What are the biggest threats to solitary bees?

Basically the same as for honey bees,

1)Imported diseases. We are rapidly losing our native bumble bees, our best pollinators, probably because of diseases imported accidentally by agricultural operations. We are not sure how many parasites and diseases may be invading populations of solitary bees but the threat is large.

2)Pesticides. Native bees, especially solitary bees, are very susceptible to poisoning.

3)Habitat loss. This means fewer forage plants but also less chemical-free nest space, mostly open, undisturbed ground near flowers.

4  What can we do to help solitary bees?

1)    LEARN. Learn about pollinators and their importance, pass on the knowledge.

2)    GO ORGANIC. Avoid pesticide use.

3)    FEED. Plant a variety of nectar-producing flower plants that bloom throughout the year. Lists of good bee plants can be found on the internet and from the Xerces Society.

4)    WELCOME. Leave bare, sunny patches of soil in your garden or along edges of walkways, fences, etc. for solitary bee nesting. Leave some of your yard trimmings in a stick pile and/or leave standing any pithy stems for twig-nesters. Put up nesting blocks or commercial nest boxes if you want to do a little extra.

5)   PROTECT. If you know of bumble bee nests (usually in the ground but sometimes in bird houses or compost piles) leave them alone if possible. Help protect all wild areas. Bumble bees prefer open, sunny meadows where rodents have dug burrows.

5  Why did you decide to become an entomologist?

I had no choice! I was a regular kid playing in the dirt with bugs. And I just never grew up! Instead, I found a way to stay a kid and get paid for it! Of course, it entailed being a grown up long enough to get through college and apply for the right job. It helped that my mom was encouraging of my early entomological pursuits. Later on, inspiration came from an uncle who was a biologist, and from my paternal grandfather I received a legacy of natural history, including entomology.

Here’s a link to an article about Evan and his class from the UW student newspaper, The Daily:

http://dailyuw.com/archive/2013/07/23/science/love-bees#.U3VZU3bCr98

I selected some useful websites for learning about pollinators and what we, as concerned citizens, can do to help. Yes, we can and should petition the government to ban certain pesticides such as  neonicotinoids, known to harm bees. But there is much we can do on our own and as communities, to welcome our friends the pollinators.  The word, interdependence, has no more poignant and apt meaning than our relationship to pollinators. They can do fine without us, but we are undeniably here and they’re stuck with us. We need them and we share the earth with them, so we have the responsibility to protect them in perpetuity. We’re not doing that. To do that, we have to be thinking far ahead which is difficult for governments, when setting policy, because we live in a system that glorifies short-term gain for the individual, not long-term stability and resilience for the commonwealth. Pollinators are members of the commonwealth.

http://www.epa.gov/pesticides/ecosystem/pollinator/

http://www.fws.gov/pollinators/

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2012/09/120904101128.htm

http://blog.conservancy.bc.ca/get-involved-with-tlc/resources/pollinator-enhancement-program/bringing-back-the-bees/

http://save-bees.org/

I’ll leave you with this entry from Wikipedia. The five principles are a bit vague and unenforceable, but they point to a way of thinking that is strangely foreign to the modern mind.

World Charter for Nature was adopted by United Nations member nation-states on October 28, 1982. It proclaims five “principles of conservation by which all human conduct affecting nature is to be guided and judged.”

1. Nature shall be respected and its essential processes shall not be impaired.
2. The genetic viability on the earth shall not be compromised; the population levels of all life forms, wild and domesticated, must be at least sufficient for their survival, and to this end necessary habitats shall be safeguarded.
3. All areas of the earth, both land and sea, shall be subject to these principles of conservation; special protection shall be given to unique areas, to representative samples of all the different types of ecosystems and to the habitats of rare or endangered species.
4. Ecosystems and organisms, as well as the land, marine and atmospheric resources that are utilized by man, shall be managed to achieve and maintain optimum sustainable productivity, but not in such a way as to endanger the integrity of those other ecosystems or species with which they coexist.
5. Nature shall be secured against degradation caused by warfare or other hostile activities.^[1]

The vote was 111 for, one against (United States), 18 abstentions.^[2]

for our carefree life

everything depends on them

the pollinators

See you in the garden.

I’ve been busy planting recently. It’s been a good mix of rain and sun and though it cooled off a bit today, we haven’t had the protracted cold of the last few springs. Knock on wood. It’s tough when plants first go in the ground in May in Seattle, for May is a crapshoot here. Sometimes (rarely) we start summer a month early. And sometimes (often), May and June conspire to break the spirit of all but the bravest gardeners. Those are the fabled lettuce and spinach, mustard and collard and kale years. Peas, they just keep producing, but the tomatoes and the eggplants and the peppers, alas. Such is weather.

In the spirit of spring and warmth and hope, here are some flower photos taken today, in the rain.

Iris douglasiana (Douglas iris) woods north of Cascara Circle

Native Americans used Douglas iris leaves for fiber.

Calycanthus floridus (eastern sweetshrub) woods north of Cascara Circle

Medicinal and aromatic, it’s a fine specimen when flowering.

Hydrophyllum virginianum (waterleaf) section D

Young leaves are edible and astringent roots have been used to treat diarrhea and other intestinal disorders.

Camassia leichtlinii (large camas) section C

There are blue, purple, cream and white forms of Camassia leichtlinii. Bulbs are edible.

Rosa pisocarpa (peafruit rose, cluster rose) Cascara Circle.

The seeds to grow this rose I collected in the mountains near Leavenworth, Washington, on a backpacking trip to Lake Augusta.

Menyanthes trifoliata (bogbean) Cascara Circle

Root is edible, after treatment, in times of famine, best avoided otherwise. The whole plant has been used medicinally for a wide range of ailments.

Lonicera ciliosa (orange honeysuckle) Cascara Circle

Hummingbird, where art thou?

Saxifraga pensylvanica (eastern swamp saxifrage) section E

Young leaves are edible and the roots have been used for medicine.

Rubus ursinus (Pacific blackberry) border areas

The fruit of our Pacific blackberry vines are small but delicious. They’re not quite invasive but they are growing around the garden in many places. Okay, they’re a little bit invasive.

Chrysanthemum coccineum (common pyrethrum) section A

I remember a housemate using a combination of pyrethrum and boric acid to take back control of our house from the cockroaches when I lived in Austin. It worked … sort of. We won the battle but lost the war.

rain on May flowers

this winter’s bleakness banished

or maybe transformed

See you in the garden.

Most of the yard attached to the house where I live belongs to the city. Past landowners have fenced it in, creating a de facto private space. My housemates and I have a large vegetable garden in the side yard, but in back it is…the wasteland. An interesting phenomenon occurs in the wasteland. Natives, like bigleaf maples (Acer macrophylllum) and Indian plums (Oemleria cerasiformis), coexist with feral, cultivated plums (Prunus spp.), squirrel-sown horse chestnuts (Aesculus hippocastanum) and Eurasian ruderal ‘weeds’ like dandelion (Taraxacum officinale), money plant (Lunaria annua), hairy bittercress (Cardamine hirsuta), purple deadnettle (Lamium purpureum) and chickweed (Stellaria media) and of course, stinging nettle (Urtica dioica), which is native here and in much of the northern hemisphere, occurring from the most wild and remote places to the heart of the city, the plant equivalent of the coyote (Canis latrans) in North America.

Acer macrophyllum (bigleaf maple) flowering in April.

The sap of bigleaf maple is edible, though not as sweet as sugar maple (Acer saccharum). The flowers are eaten in a variety of ways and the leaves and bark have been used for medicine.

Oemleria cerasiformis (Indian plum) flowering in April.

The fruit are small, the seed is large and the taste is unexceptional, but Indian plums are everywhere.  They are dioecious (some plants have all female flowers and produce fruit, some plants have all  male flowers and produce no fruit), so, if you see no fruit and it is fruiting season, look for a nearby female plant. The bark of Indian plum has been put to various medicinal uses.

Prunus sp. (plum of unknown origin)

In midsummer, Asian plums mature and a bit later, the European plums. Dandelions might be all you really need to survive, but throw in some Italian prune plums and you will be happier. They are so easy to dry (they’re freestone) and they make a plum butter to die for. Seriously, every home should have at least one prune plum tree.

Aesculus hippocastanum (horse chestnut) beginning to flower in April.

Horse chestnut seed extract is used to treat chronic venous insufficiency. If you have to ask what that is, you probably don’t need horse chestnut seed extract.

Lamium purpureum (purple deadneattle)

Leaves, stems and flowers are all edible. The same goes for Lamium album (white deadnettle).

Taraxacum officinale (dandelion)

Dandelions are almost always flowering almost everywhere. They’re about all you really need to stay alive. Eat the flowers, eat the leaves, eat the roots. A weed, perhaps, but a superfood, yes.  Most Americans don’t get enough bitter foods in their diet. Bitter dandelion greens stimulate the gall bladder to produce bile which helps our bodies break down fatty foods. Mmm…fatty foods!

Stellaria media (chickweed)

In pesto and salads, steamed or stir-fried, chickweed is a dependably abundant green  in the average urban garden.

Cardamine hirsuta (hairy bittercress)

Pick hairy bittercress before it goes to seed and you have an excellent alternative to watercress.

Lunaria annua (money plant)

Money plant seeds have been used as a mustard substitute; roots and young leaves are edible.

Urtica dioica (stinging nettle)

Wander the northern hemisphere and find this native stinging nettle. It’s a food, fiber, medicine and dye, all in one ornery little package.

Many of the plants in our urban green spaces are used as food, medicine, fiber, dye or all of the above. And they are where they are; the city is a vast tapestry of microhabitats, so I keep my eyes open all the time for foraging opportunities. There is certainly an ecological argument to be made for monitoring and, in some cases, controlling plants that are likely to disrupt the equilibrium of native ecosystems. But many of the plants that we urban foragers consume are here to stay, ineradicable and reasonably benign. Most are colonizers of disturbed soil, often protecting it from erosion, and they’re rarely seen outside the edges of human settlement. And, as my backyard wasteland demonstrates, many native plants and nonnative plants coexist quite peacefully (with the exception of tree killers like the various species of Clematis and Hedera that thrive in our urban forests). If you’re interested in learning about your urban environments on more intimate terms, do yourself a favor and get a good field guide. Arthur Lee Jacobson’s Wild Plants of Greater Seattle is an excellent resource.  You can find it at local, independent book stores or order it directly from him http://www.arthurleej.com/wpogs.html, and start getting to know your city green spaces from the ground up.

step into the fringe

you see hiding in plain sight

this verdant wasteland

See you in the garden.

I first encountered a xeriscape garden in 1990, while living in Austin, Texas. Xeriscaping is gardening with plants that require very little or no watering. It certainly made sense in a hot, dry (though humid in summer, ack!) place like central Texas. It also makes sense in Seattle. We have a Mediterranean climate, with cool, rainy winters and warm, dry summers.

In Seattle, we are billed at a higher rate for our water in summer because there is more demand and the resource is limited. But summer is when many plants need supplemental water to survive. Luckily, there are plants from the drylands of the world which do very well without summer water. The biggest limitation, for some but not all, is the sodden ground of winter. Without extremely good drainage, many plants from the drylands will rot in winter.

In the Medicinal Herb Garden xeriscape bed, I use a mixture of pumice and gravel, heaping it up above the level of the surrounding ground to ensure good drainage.

Opuntia polyacantha (plains pricklypear)

Many species of Opuntia are valuable food crops around the world, but they have also been used for medicine. Opuntias are New World plants and so, almost without exception, are all cacti, which grow from Canada to the southern tip of South America. There is, however, one exception, Rhipsalis baccifera which grows in tropical America, tropical Africa and islands east to Sri Lanka. Mystery. As the theory goes, they have probably floated to the Old World in debris after large storms.

But, back to Opuntias. They’re called nopal in Latin America. Nopal is a Native American word, from the Nahuatl language of the Nahua people of Central Mexico. The nopal pads are eaten in a variety of ways in Mexican cuisine. You should grow some in your yard, in your xeriscape.

And then there’s the fruit, the prickly pear or tuna. Though they are from the New World, Opuntias have been embraced by the Old World. They grow all around the Mediterranean. I’ll borrow this line from The Story of Foods by Forrest Crissey, “In Mexico and Sicily, the poor people look upon the prickly pear with great respect, as it forms an important part of their food supply and is used in many different ways – as fruit, as salad and as jelly.” I was in high school when my mother first brought home a prickly pear. She said it had been her father’s favorite fruit. He and my grandmother emigrated to the US from Sicily and wherever there were Sicilians on the east coast, you could find prickly pears at the markets. I’d seen them at produce stands, but had never bothered to try one. I have to admit to being underwhelmed at my first taste. I’d take a mango or a passion fruit over a prickly pear any day. But prickly pears can grow where most other plants wither and blow away. That’s their magic and we might get to appreciate this virtue soon enough, as hotter and drier summers become the norm here.

If you’re in Seattle and want to see a very successful garden of Opuntias, some with fruit still attached, go to the west side of El Centro De La Raza on Beacon Hill, just before the corner of Bayview and 16th Ave S, and behold (update: to make room for a new parking garage, the Opuntia garden has been displaced. Hopefully they will reappear somewhere else on the grounds).  Unfortunately, we can’t grow the Opuntia ficus-indica outside in Seattle (at least in winter). That is the species which normally produces the prickly pears of commerce. Fruit are smaller on the species that can survive winters here.

Opuntia humifusa (prickly pear) Believe it or not, they grow from Montana to New Mexico, east to Ontario and Florida.

Opuntia phaecantha (tulip prickleypear) and Larrea tridentata (creasote bush)

Opuntia imbricata (tree cholla) These are laughably sad little specimens, but they’ve tenaciously endured many winters in the garden.

Artemisia cana (silver sagebrush)

Lewisia columbiana (Columbia lewisia) Sometimes common names and scientific names converge.

Lewisia cotyledon (Siskiyou lewisia)

Balsamorhiza sagittata (arrowleaf balsamroot)

Balsamroot seeds, roots, young shoots, leaves, petioles and flowers are edible and the seeds are rich in oil. We associate them with the east side, but so far, I’m having luck with them in the Medicinal Herb Garden. If you have a well-drained, sunny spot, get some seeds (they need cold stratification to germinate) and start growing them. People cross the Cascades to see the balsamroot blooming in springtime. Think of the gas you can save by growing them yourself.

Ceanothus cordulatus (snowbush) with unopened flowers. Keep it dry and it will stay small(ish). I’ve cut it back hard, to make room in the xeriscape bed, and the new growth looks quite natural.

Ceanothus cordulatus (snowbush) One week later, with flowers opening.

If you have a dry, sunny slope in your yard where you’re growing juniper or rock rose, you might consider adding some more diverse, edible and medicinal plants to your xeriscape (yes, you already have one, good work!) that will be the envy of your neighbors.

hot sun and dry land

deep blue mirage, not water

on the horizon

See you in the garden

What can I add, really? Here’s some of what is currently flowering (or interesting) in the Medicinal Herb Garden. Not bad for April.

Geranium maculatum (wild geranium) section E. Prized by Native Americans for its astringent properties, it has been used to treat diarrhea, hemorrhoids and other conditions.

Convallaria majalis (lily of the valley)  section E.  Milder in its effects than Digitalis, it has been used for centuries to treat heart conditions.

Thermopsis montana (mountain golden banner)  section D

Aronia melanocarpa (black chokeberry) sunny border areas. From eastern North America, this shrub produces black fruit that many consider to be a superfood.

Helenium hoopesii (western sneezeweed)  section C

Asphodelus ramosus (asphodel) section B

Tellima grandiflora (fringecups) Cascara Circle

Camassia quamash (camas) section B. The bulbs of these beautiful plants are edible and were collected and cultivated by Native Americans.

Rosa nutkana (nootka rose) Cascara Circle.  It smells as sweet as it looks. This is a good native rose for a fairly sunny spot, if you don’t mind that it spreads and can get 10 feet tall.  It should be more widely planted in Seattle.

Prosartes hookeri (Hooker’s fairybells)

Rhodiola rosea (rose root) section A. An adaptogenic herb from the north.

Rehmannia glutinosa (di huang) section B. Also known as Chinese foxglove, it is used in Traditional Chinese Medicine to treat anemia, diabetes and other conditions.

Cochlearia officinalis (scurvy grass) section A. Not bad, but there are slightly better things to eat if you’re fighting scurvy.

Aquilegia canadensis (wild columbine) sections C  and A. Eat your lunch by the wild columbine and you just might see a feeding hummingbird.

Luetkea pectinata (partridgefoot) section C. I collected the seeds to grow this plant on a long and memorable backpacking trip near Glacier Peak in the Cascade Mountains.

Bletilla striata (bai ji) sections E and F. Used in Traditional Chinese Medicine to reduce swelling and stop bleeding.

Geum triflorum (prairie smoke) section C. The seed heads look like puffs of smoke.

Linum perenne (perennial flax) section C. Though the flax seeds for commerce come from the annual Linum usitatissimum and can be eaten raw, this perennial species produces similar seeds which are toxic when raw but edible and nutritious after toasting.

Polygonum bistorta (bistort) section B. The leaves and roots are edible and medicinal.

Lomatium californicum (California lomatium) section C. Not all species of Lomatium have foliage that tastes good but the leaves of L. californicum taste like lovage (Levisticum officinale)

Sisyrinchium bellum (western blue-eyed grass) section D. It’s not in the grass family (Poaceae), but the iris family (Iridaceae). Still, common names are lovely. The foliage does resemble grass.

Prosartes smithii (Smith’s fairybells) section E. Speaking of common names…. Admit it, if you were a fairy, hovering around the Medicinal Herb Garden, you would feel the irresistible urge to ring a Smith’s or Hooker’s fairybell.

Arisaema triphyllum (Jack in the pulpit) section E. When they flower, you’ll see where they get their common name.

Asparagus cochinchinensis (tian men dong) section E. Snaky, spiky asparagus used in Traditional Chinese Medicine.

Phoenicaulis cheiranthoides (wallflower phoenicaulis) This was taken in eastern Washington, where they flower before ours in section D

Actaea rubra (red baneberry) section B. From seeds collected  along the Upper Big Quilcene River on an east slope of the Olympic Mountains.

Ranunculus recurvatus (blisterwort) section E

Anthriscus cerefolium (chervil) section F.  A friend used to put a sprig of chervil, a slice of wild strawberry, and a pinch of powdered sugar on top of sweet cornbread muffins.  Mmmmm.

Bunium bulbocastanum (earth chestnut) section A. The tubers are best in early fall. They taste like a cross between raw potato and coconut… in a good way.

Ledum groenlandicum (Labrador tea) section E. I’ve never heard anyone call it Greenland tea. Hmmm

Smilacina racemosa (false Solomon’s seal) flowers opening. If only you could smell this, you would swoon.

Taenidia integerrima (yellow pimpermel) section B

nootka rose, fringecups

columbine and fairy bells

nodding in the breeze

See you in the garden.

The Medicinal Herb Garden is lucky to belong to an international seed exchange network. Many hundreds of botanic gardens around the world participate and each garden produces a catalog of its available seeds, called an Index Seminum. By agreement, all traded seeds and resulting plants are protected by the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) (Rio de Janeiro, 1992). No seeds, plants or their progeny are allowed to be used for commercial purposes.

Though the USA has, amazingly, not yet ratified the CBD, the Medicinal Herb Garden agrees with and abides by the CBD and hopes that some day our great country will join 196 other countries and ratify the nearly universally accepted convention. We stand isolated and seemingly unable to muster the will to cooperate with the world community for the good of all.  Hmmmmm.

Examples of seed catalogs. Some gardens no longer offer their Index Seminum on paper. I hope to send all of ours by email soon but still send about half on paper.

I currently distribute about 300 indexes each year and receive requests for seeds from about 200 gardens. It’s a tough call, deciding whether to continue to offer seeds to gardens that never order seeds or send an index of their own. If a pattern persists for years, some gardens get dropped from the distribution list, but patience sometimes pays off. After years of inactivity, the Botanic Garden of Giza, Egypt started ordering seeds. When in doubt I keep sending our index.  Living in a politically stable country, it’s easy to forget that situations beyond their control can keep botanic gardens from exchanging seeds. Because the distribution cost is negligible, especially with the increasing use of email, solidarity and mutual aid is my default position.

Inside an Index Seminum.

So, how does it work? The Medicinal Herb Garden, and most botanic gardens in the seed exchange network, have a limit of 20 seed packets per order. Some gardens have no limit. When I receive an order, I put small but adequate quantities of seeds in their respective coin envelopes, write the index number and species on the envelopes, wrap in bubble wrap to protect the seeds from overzealous postal employees, put all into a large manilla envelope with a customs form, address it and ship it off to some distant land … and hope for the best. There’s no official feedback loop. Some gardens list where they got the seeds that resulted in the plants that are now producing seeds for their index. I’ve seen the UW Medicinal Herb Garden listed as a seed source in some of these indexes. So some seeds are making their way to the intended gardens.

Desiderata page of the Index Seminum. Desiderata is the Latin name for something desired or essential. Seeds are both.

In most indexes there is a proviso, stating that all seeds from the botanic garden are the result of open pollination and could possibly produce hybrids. One way to hedge bets is to order seeds of species that are the only listed representatives of their genus in each index. But it’s always a gamble ordering seeds from botanic gardens. An exception is wild-collected seeds. Some gardens collect seeds from plants in situ, that is, natural populations of plants in their native habitat, as opposed to ex situ plants in botanic gardens. Seeds from these wild populations of plants are more likely to be the species listed, unless there is a nearby, closely related species with which they might cross.

It’s a joy to peruse seed catalogs; every gardener knows the pleasure. But ordering obscure, noncommercial seeds from faraway places, that is a rare and special joy. I hope, when the staff at other gardens receive the Index Seminum from the Medicinal Herb Garden, they feel the same excitement that I do when I receive theirs. Every year I try to mix it up, retiring a plant overrepresented in the seed index network and adding  a few new plants.

For most if not all of us sharing these seeds, propagating new plants is an unending passion. I started Smilax glabra from seeds that took 5 years to germinate in an unheated quonset. It felt like a miracle when they finally arose from the soil. To all who carefully collect, clean and distribute seeds through their Index Seminum each year, thank you. All for one and one for all!

index seminum

in a dead language reborn

these seeds too go on

See you in the garden.

When I venture into the garden on spring mornings, I’m generally looking at the big picture. What work requires immediate attention? Maybe it’s weeding or deadheading or cutting down cover crops, planting out starts or filling in holes dug by the squirrels, picking up trash or, more likely, all of the above.

Often I forget to be attentive to the subtle differences, noticing something has flowered only after the petals are wilting or the fruit is forming. There’s so much to do in a day that missing little details is easy. Having my camera in hand I find myself slowing down and seeing the changes.

Poncirus trifoliata (trifoliate orange)

The trifoliate orange in section D  is blooming. It is extremely hardy and is commonly used as rootstock for commercial citrus trees and its bark, thorns and fruit are used in Traditional Chinese Medicine. It’s an attention grabber in any season, spiky and forbidding in winter but a joyous riot of shimmering, white, fragrant blossoms in spring.

Oplopanax horridus (Devil’s club) April 7

Oplopanax horridus (Devil’s club) April 16

Speaking of thorny, the spines on Devil’s club are worth avoiding. They detach easily and can become embedded in skin, causing real trouble if they become infected.  This plant was started from seed I collected on a backpacking trip in the Olympic Mountains.  Devil’s club roots and bark have been widely used by Native Americans to treat a variety of ills from headaches, colds and rheumatism to stomach and skin conditions. The spring buds, when 1″-2″ long, are edible. The endangered medicinal plant, ginseng (Panax spp.) and the unfortunately common ivy (Hedera helix) that blankets our urban green spaces, are both related to Devil’s club. They’re all in the same family, the Araliaceae.

Sedum spathulifolium (broadleaf stonecrop)

Broadleaf stonecrop serves as the host plant for the endangered San Bruno elfin butterfly of San Mateo County, California. It’s true. Humans, should the need arise, can eat the leaves. I haven’t felt the need…yet.

Rosmarinus officinalis (Rosemary)

Rosemary flowers are sweet, aromatic and delicious. Some so-called edible flowers are just that and no more, but rosemary flowers are a special garnish, well worth the patience it takes to pick them, for they are small. Try them on a simple salad of greens with a light vinaigrette.  The leaves help us digest fatty foods and make a healing addition to a hot bath, increasing circulation and easing aches and pains. Give it a well-drained, sunny, protected spot in the garden and it will do the rest.  Our rosemary hedge in the Medicinal Herb Garden is covered with flowers right now. Bees love it.

Myrrhis odorata (sweet cicely)

Sweet cicely is a graceful, ferny plant that does well in shade. The anise flavored foliage, roots and young, green seeds are all edible and delicious.

Erysimum asperum (Western wallflower)

If you pass through the garden or encounter a similar species of wallflower in the wild, kneel down and indulge yourself. The flowers have a fragrance that is worth a moment’s pause.

Ribes cereum (wax currant)

The insipid fruit of the western North American  wax currant have been used as food and medicine by Native Americans. When gathering, insipid fruit is better than no fruit.

Prunus maritima (beach plum) What a floral display from such a small shrub!

While visiting Cape Cod last October I encountered beach plum in the wild but it was past the fruiting season. Beach plum jam is common in gift shops on the east coast. This shrub was grown from seed I received from Smith College in 2012.  I trade seeds with roughly 200 botanic gardens around the world. Getting their seed catalogs each year is almost as exciting as getting seeds. Starting woody plants that will outlive me, from seeds received as gifts … it’s a hard feeling to describe in words, but hope for and solidarity with future generations is part of it. One day I want to travel to some of the gardens and meet the gardeners who are growing plants from seeds I’ve sent to them, especially seeds I’ve collected in the wild. And I hope some of the gardeners who have sent me seeds will visit the Medicinal Herb Garden and introduce themselves. I’ll write more about the amazing, heartwarming seed exchange program that has allowed the garden’s collection of plants to expand over the decades. Even at the height of the Cold War, friend and foe kept trading seeds.

Ceanothus thyrsiflorus (blue brush)

Blue brush is the first Ceanothus species to flower in the garden. A  green dye is made from the flowers and the whole plant is rich in saponins. When crushed and mixed with water, the flowers and leaves make a safe and gentle, aromatic soap. Many Ceanothus species are good, early-flowering bee plants. They’re drought tolerant and evergreen. If you don’t have one, get one. It’s another great bee plant.

Lewisia cotyledon (Siskiyou lewisia)

Finally, I’ll leave you with this beauty. It took ten years from germination to get this Siskiyou lewisia to flower last year and it is again flowering this year, as I write this post. In the Medicinal Herb Garden, Lewisias need the raised and well-drained gravel and pumice mix of this xeriscape to survive. Otherwise their substantial taproots tend to rot in our cool, wet winters. Not all Lewisia species are as amenable to life on the west side of the Cascades. But that is another story…

cool nights warmer now

as April flowers unfurl

winter fades away

See you in the garden.

Urtica dioica (stinging nettle)

It’s late nettle season around here. Even in the city, nettles abound in the green spaces. In the Medicinal Herb Garden, there are two types of nettle. In section E, from the eastern USA and Canada, is Laportea canadensis (eastern wood nettle). In the woods north of Cascara Circle is the  more cosmopolitan Urtica dioica (stinging nettle) which has been used to treat hay fever, joint pain, urinary problems and many other conditions. They’re not in the same genus but they are in the same family, the Urticaceae. Stinging nettle grows throughout North America, Eurasia and North Africa.  Both species sting and for most people, the irritation caused is minor and brief. Some people use stinging nettle as a treatment for the pain of rheumatoid arthritis. These articles shine some light on current research:

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/11962753

http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0014579398016226

Around the world, stinging nettles have been put to many other medicinal, food, fiber and dye uses. You can find a lot of entries on nettles in anthropologist Daniel Moerman’s book Native American Ethnobotany, an ethnographic record of plant use by Native Americans in North America. This excellent site allows you to look up any plant in his book:

http://herb.umd.umich.edu/

Like goji berries, burdock root, garlic and many other edibles, nettle is both medicine and food. It makes a deliciously earthy tisane, is excellent as steamed greens or in pesto, and in soups it adds a distinctive umami, like a rich, buttery sencha steeped in a broth of dried Boletus edulis (porcini). I’ve found that hanging nettles to dry for a few days in a cool place gives them a richness in an infusion that neither fresh nor fully dry quite equals. Nettles are an excellent spring tonic herb, full of vitamins and minerals. If you haven’t tried them, there’s still time. Find some moist woods and start looking. Or head to higher elevation where they come up later. And don’t forget your gloves.

careful when picking

green tufts of tender spring growth

easily nettled

See you in the garden.