June 8, 2010
Transferable foraging skills: How well would you do?
Sean Rowe, the foraging troubador
A couple of weeks back I had the good fortune spend some time with Sean Rowe (rhymes with ‘how’) from Albany, New York. During that time I was treated to two sides of Sean’s talents. You see, not only is he a gifted singer/songwriter (on tour promoting his latest album ‘Magic’) but also an enthusiastic and knowledgeable forager, keen to be out in the nearest available ‘wilderness’. The Bushcraft Magazine filmed us out on a foray. Sean has his own wilderness blog and is currently editing a copy of the video to accompany his own musical soundtrack.
I was interested to see how someone would fare so far out of their comfort zone. I have read extensively on North American wild forage and, as I mentioned in my previous blog the two continents have relatively few plants in common apart from accidental imports and a few Northern Hemisphere-spanning species – such as Cattails (Typha latifolia) and Fireweed (Epilobium angustifolium).
The first British plant we encountered that Sean was familiar with was Garlic Mustard (Alliaria petiolata), which he told me is regarded as an introduced invasive weed by the US Department of Agriculture. He commented that while it grows patchily in my local woods, back home near Albany it shows a different habit, carpeting extensive areas of the forest floor and thus making foraging easy. Sean knew the Latin name, so I knew we were talking about the same plant.
Garlic Mustard or Jack-by-the-Hedge (Alliolaria petiolata)
The Latin name was a decisive point of reference and really helped communication and understanding, as it was always intended. I showed Sean Hogweed (Heracleum sphondylium) for instance, and he was able to describe to me the differences in appearance and uses of the North American variety, Heracleum lanatum because we were clear about both Family and Genus. Later, Sean stopped to examine a tree leaf and said it reminded him of a Linden – Tilia, and I confirmed that he was correct in his assessment. He was looking at our Common Lime (a.k.a. Linden), a hybrid – Tilia X vulgaris, which he differentiated from Tilia americana for me.
Sean’s broad knowledge of plants in general enabled him to key in to the universal characteristics of particular plant Families. The square stems of the Labiatae – deadnettles and mints, for example, or common features of the umbellifers (Apiaceae) or Carrot family, bridged widely separated foraging experiences. Far from struggling with a whole new suite of plants, most of the species were new to the American, but their counterparts and representatives back home were familiar. This made learning them much easier for Sean and teaching them simpler for me. The day was fascinating and instructive for both of us (look out for the video). I hope I would acquit myself half as well if I get a chance to forage in America; I came away with the greatest respect for Sean’s foraging skills and these thoughts:
- Knowledge of specific plant Latin names is essential, not just for wider communication but to understand the physical characteristics and properties of a Genus. e.g. How similar is Hogweed Heracleum sphondylium to H. lanatum, or H. kamchatkaensis?
- Understanding the broad range of representatives of a plant Family is important.
- Knowledge of characteristic Family traits is extremely useful.
- Being able to recognise an edible plant without understanding its context and wider relationships is extremely limiting and could leave you stranded.
- Learn your plants, regardless of whether you can eat them or not.
A final word on the man and his music. Sean Rowe has a fine voice and plays mean guitar.
A man in his element
He even throws atlatl well. Check out the videos of Sean in my front room in the gallery and look over the links below.
May 19, 2010
Fireweed, Far and Wide.
Europe and North America have only a few wild plants in common. This means that for the most part our plant lore and traditional foraging experiences are very different. A few familiar species have been introduced into America by European immigrants, some deliberately, such as Watercress (Nasturtium officinalis) and others by accident; for example Greater Plantain (Plantago major), which became known to the indigenous people as ‘White Man’s Footsteps’ or White-man’s Foot’ because of the way it sprang up in his wake. Either way they were quickly assimilated into Native American culture, and their culinary and medicinal potential thoroughly utilised.
Fireweed, also known as Rosebay Willowherb (Chamaenerion [Epilobium] angustifolium) however, is hemisphere -spanning herb that is native to both sides of the Atlantic, with a long history of uses in many cultures. It is a pioneer species with wide powers of dispersal and is particularly adapted to colonising ground that has been burnt. It became a familiar sight on ‘bombsites’ in London in the first couple of decades after the Second World War and it was one of the most abundant early settlers to the area devastated by the eruption of Mount St. Helens in Washington state in 1980.
Fireweed flowers as they appear in July
From a forager’s perspective it is often plentiful where it grows and is versatile in its edibility. The spring shoots have been consumed in this country for hundreds of years. The tender top 6-8 inches (15-20cm) are snapped off, stripped of most of their leaves except a small tuft at the tip and the stems peeled. They may be eaten raw, or cooked, by boiling, steaming or frying first in butter then steaming in the same pan like spinach. They are especially delicious when added to an omelette.
Fireweed shoots prepared for cooking ...
...and in an omelette.
Now is the time to harvest, so go seek a patch and watch it through the summer.
an extensive patch of Fireweed shoots
detail of Rosebay Willowherb shoots - learn to recognise the willow-like leaves that give the plant its name
Apart from some medicinal uses, there ends our native knowledge, it seems. To use this wonderful resource to its fullest potential however we must look to tribes far and wide.
Indigenous Canadians also ate the young shoots. Yupik Eskimos preserved the stems in seal oil to prolong their viability. In addition the Blackfeet ate the fresh roots in spring. The gelatinous pith of both younger and older stems is sweet and prized as food by many northern tribes. It was consumed after splitting the stem open with a fingernail. The people of Kamchatka add the sweet inner tissue to ale that they brew and also use it in vinegar. As Fireweed began to bloom in summer Fisherman Lake Slave People ate the raw flowers and present day Alaskans make Fireweed Jelly from them. Now why don’t we?
Russians make a tea known as Kaporie from the dried leaves, though this, if attempted, should be drunk in moderation as various sources report that it causes drunkenness, nausea or stupefaction! Later in the year the down from willowherb seeds can be used as tinder, though in the past they also have been woven into a delicate fabric with other materials. In autumn the dry stems produce a fibre that can be used as cordage. Fireweed truly is ‘a plant for all seasons’.
April 22, 2010
The Invasion of Salt-loving Scurvy-grass
One of the advantages of not being able to drive is that, as a passenger, you notice more.
Over much of Kent I have witnessed a phenomenon this Spring. Along the many of the bare and ugly road-verges and central reservations of our A-roads and motorways dense, delicate pink or white coatings of low-growing flowers have appeared like stars in the Milky Way, where the previous year there were none. The continued and rapid spread of Early Scurvy-grass (Cochlearica danica) has been quite astonishing this year and the reason is simple; the hard Winter.
Danish or Early Scurvy-grass beside an A-road
How? First of all it is a Northern species, so it doesn’t mind the cold, in fact it thrives within the Arctic Circle. Then it is a halophyte, a salt-loving plant and salt/gritting operations this winter were so extensive as to change the salinity of the roadside soil over hundreds of miles in a strip anything up to 3m wide. Early (or Danish) Scurvy-grass’s natural habitat is bare, sandy or gritty seashores but it is colonising far inland. I first encountered it on the hard shoulder of the M25 some years back (don’t ask). The salt burns away the natural vegetation leaving a bare strip, which the scurvy-grass and other maritime plants can and do colonise in a long linear fashion. However it has been noted that where bare soil leads away from the road edge but is no longer salty, the plants refuse to follow. Incredibly, the seeds appear to be dispersed in the slipstreams of motor vehicles and also in the mud attached to them. The Kent populations could have originated from the M25, though in truth lorries from all over the country and the rest of Europe pass through the county. In parts of the country it is colonising at a rate of over 30km per year.
Early Scurvy Grass - Cochlearica danica
The plant is rich in Vitamin C and like other members of its family, is so called because it if famously antiscorbutic (anti-scurvy). Scurvy still occasionally occurs in badly nourished people in Britain but the affliction used to be particularly common in sailors whose diet after a long time at sea lacked fresh fruit and vegetables and also in country people after a long winter without the same. Although symptoms could become severe and unpleasant (gradual weakening, pale skin, sunken eyes, tender gums, muscle pain, loss of teeth, internal bleeding, and the re-opening of old wounds), the restoration to health on Vitamin C rich plants was rapid.
The irony is that this immense new crop is likely to be so full of heavy metals and other roadside pollutants that it would do you far more harm than good. And that is without being mown down by a juggernaut when you stop to pick some.
April 11, 2010
The Perils of Misidentification
Would you mistake the highly poisonous woodland plant, Dog’s Mercury (Mercurialis perennis) for the edible, semi-aquatic Brooklime (Veronica beccabunga)?
Brooklime and Dog's Mercury
In 1982, a 40 year old schoolmaster and his 39 year old wife did, with near-fatal consequences. They based their identification on a small black-and-white line illustration in the 1975 edition of Richard Mabey’s Food for Free.
In fairness to the book, the image, which in my opinion looks like Brooklime as intended, and not like Dog’s Mercury, was clearly never meant to be used for ID. There is no additional description or further detail. So why stake your life on it?
Well, enthusiasm sometimes gets the better of us. Every now and then the impatient desire to forage a free meal overrides a person’s knowledge or experience or powers of observation; the notion of a patient apprenticeship is exchanged for a steep learning curve.
Acquiring identification skills takes time and practise. If all you want to do is give something its correct name, there is no harm done if you later find out you were wrong. We all have to learn. When studying, a sound approach is to give your specimen (or perhaps a digital photo) a provisional identification that may one day be confirmed. Read the additional information in the text, and use all your senses. ID first then, perhaps eat it the following year after you have seen the plant in all stages and looked at it carefully. Training your eyes and brain to recognise subtle differences between things take time, and the keener we are sometimes the less we look. In fact, we carry preconceptions in our heads that can stop us seeing what is truly there.
Ray egg-case or bat?
This was brought home to me very strikingly recently. I had a display of Natural History items at a country event. Amongst them were several black ‘mermaid’s purses’, the egg cases of skates/rays that get washed up on the beach. Several times that day different people said to me ‘Those are bats’. Something black with vaguely hook-shaped appendages, no eyes, mouth, ears or any features at all, had defaulted to ‘bat’ in their minds and they looked no further until I pointed out their mistake.
We are probably all guilty of doing it to a greater or lesser extent but we should take special care whilst foraging. Dog’s Mercury has also been taken for Spearmint (Mentha spicata) (despite not smelling minty) and Fat Hen (Chenopodium album), amongst others. Compare the Brooklime and Dog’s Mercury in the photos. I hope they are helpful, but don’t base your breakfast on them.
-
Dog's Mercury growing in a wood
-
Brooklime growing in a stream in a wood
March 5, 2010
Lights in the Sky
Over recent days there have been a variety of transient atmospheric phenomena, fleeting lights in the daytime sky. They are mostly associated with thin high cloud, Cirrus, Cirrocumulus and Cirrostratus and their various species – yes, clouds have species! As these clouds are mostly composed of minute ice crystals when the sun shines through them, depending on the shape and angle of those crystals, they may act as tiny prisms refracting the light and splitting them into rainbow colours.
To see them, first you have to be aware that conditions are right for them to occur. Sunshine is a precondition, plus any amount of the aforementioned cloud to make it hazy. Then you have to look for them. Unlike ordinary rainbows which occur opposite the sun, most of these other effects occur in the direction of the sun. We rarely look that way, with good reason – it can permanently damage your eyes. So wear good sunglasses, position yourself with something between you to screen the sun, such as a tree, or shield it with a hand or a book.
The commonest phenomenon is the 22° halo. An outstretched hand at arm’s length should cover the sun with the thumb, while the tip of the little finger rests on the circumference of the ring. This won’t be enough to shield your eyes though. For most of this day’s observing I stood in the shadow of our chimney stack. The 22° halo sometimes has additions – extra rings or arcs associated with it, some of which are very rare, and for that reason plus its sheer beauty it is always worth photographing, in my opinion.
22° halo and sundog
Commonly associated with halos are sundogs – there is one faintly visible in the halo photo and a second taken at sunrise on the following day.
Apparently, these are formed by light refracting through crystals that are shaped differently from those that create halos. The two together tells of a mix of crystals in the high atmosphere and also extends the possibilities of what light shows may be seen. Sundogs sometimes have a white outer extension. The right hand sundog from the sunrise display began to stretch some distance and was very intense.
This was the beginning of a parhelic circle (par – through, helic from Greek helios – sun). Occasionally a white line may encircle the whole sky, passing through the sun. I have observed this only twice and it is quite a surprising sight, I can assure you!
Parhelic Circle March 27 2009 (has had unsharp mask applied to emphasise the ring)
Parhelic Circle June 14 2008 - this doesn't encircle the sun but passes through it!
The final crystal induced effect was a circumzenithal arc (circum – around, zenith – sun’s highest point in the sky). It happened when the sun was low and occurs quite a distance from the sun. It resembles an upside down rainbow with the centre of the bow sunwards and red on the lower surface. Although the colours can be intense it is difficult to photograph, in my experience.
Circumzenithal Arc - at the zenith, way above a low sun
The particular conditions that brought about these effects – a collision between cool and warm air masses – also created a different optical phenomenon – irisation or iridescent cloud. Newly condensing cloud, also at fairly high altitude, may be formed of super-cooled water droplets rather than ice crystals. These refract light differently and produce beautiful pastel hues close to the sun – sometimes too close for comfort. I was lucky with the position of the chimney stack and I mostly let my camera do the looking. Wearing sunglasses will allow you to observe this effect more often. The same thing occurred next morning but the light was too intense to photograph though I saw it clearly through my shades.
Iridescent cloud
growing iridescence
intense iridescence
What does all this mean to bushcrafters? Well, it is always good to improve your powers of observation and your awareness of Nature. On the day that most of these phenomena occurred, it was evident to me from watching, that the clouds aloft were moving in the opposite direction from the wind and clouds near ground level. The upper air was moving in from the SW and therefore likely to be warm and moist originally. The lower wind was a chilly ENE, a cold air mass undercutting the warm and forcing it upwards where it cooled, showing an incredible mix of lively Cirrus formations and very long aircraft condensation trails, indicating that it was unstable. Something similar can be created by the approach of a warm front, but in this case the nearest front was halted over Ireland so the weather did not deteriorate further. It was worth keeping an eye on all the same. The atmospheric phenomena I witnessed can portend a change and with the warming of the Northern Hemisphere as Spring approaches there will be further collisions between warm and cold air masses over the British Isles which will bring about further opportunities to observe lights in the sky.
Although halos and sundogs have been known of for thousands of years (Pliny the Elder wrote about them in his Natural History from the 1st Century) a number of explorers and observers of Nature, notably William Edward Parry in 1820, Tobias Lowitz in 1790 and Gerald E Owen in 1935 were the first to see and record the rarer arcs and related phenomena. Some managed to have arcs named after them. While today it is a subject of proper scientific study the amateur observer still has a role to play.