There is a bend in the road on the way to the top of a mountain in southwestern Virginia. Just as you round the bend, there is a large swampy bog to the left, loaded with skunk cabbage, Symplocarpus foetidus. It is an incredible display. I’ve only seen it a couple of times, which is amazing since my brother lives on that mountain. Guess I just haven’t visited at the right time often enough. A lot of us first learned about skunk cabbage as children. I remember being warned about them on early spring hikes, for the message heralded by this strange looking plant is “if you crush me, I’ll stink up your walk!”
Skunk cabbage is in the Arum family, along with some of our favorites such as Green dragon (Arisaema dracontium) and Jack-in-the-pulpit (Arisaema tryphyllum). It grows in boggy areas from Southern Canada to Northern Georgia, but is a single species. It has a distant cousin, the Western skunk cabbage (Lysichitum americanum), which is a different genus.
Skunk cabbage is in the Arum family, along with some of our favorites such as Green dragon (Arisaema dracontium) and Jack-in-the-pulpit (Arisaema tryphyllum). It grows in boggy areas from Southern Canada to Northern Georgia, but is a single species. It has a distant cousin, the Western skunk cabbage (Lysichitum americanum), which is a different genus.
The roots, which can form a massive tangle (which, by the way, makes attempting to dig and move skunk cabbage futile) contract as they grow, pulling the crown (rhizome) deeper into the mud. This explains why you seldom see the flower stem on a skunk cabbage—it is beneath any leaf litter and often underground. Occasionally you will spot one, but ordinarily the stem is far enough underground that the spathe appears to be stemless, just sitting on the ground.
In early spring the spathe rises from the earth so fast, in a process called “respiration,” that heat is generated by burning carbs stored from the previous year. The spathe has a hooded shape characteristic of the Arums, and as it inflates around the spadix (flower stalk) creates a little “room” that is warm enough to melt surrounding snow. The heat, and the carrion odor, attract any nearby flies or other insects that are active this time of year. The skunk cabbage provides warm room and board for these insects, in return for exchanging pollen with other nearby plants.
This process only lasts for a couple of weeks, after which the leaves begin to unfurl. They can grow quite large, up to three feet long, and are inflated with air and water instead of the usual cellulose. They also lack any cuticle (waxy skin), which ordinarily helps plants retain moisture. Therefore, they require a swampy location to keep them inflated long enough to store energy for the following year. Once they have done their job, the capillaries are cut off and the leaves wither into a dark, mushy mess.
In 1723, Thomas More sent a package of seeds to William Sherard in London, explaining that the native people called them “Skunkroot because of his stinking smell” and reported that it was used for smoking. “I dryed and smoaked some on’t but it stunk so wretchedly as to make me spew” he reported.[1] It also had a number of medicinal uses, including as a lotion for itching, for whooping cough, scurvy, seizures, and as an underarm deodorant.[2]
No recommendation is made here to try Skunk cabbage for anything other than observing in the wild, but it does serve as an early spring tonic for black bears, wild turkey, and Canada Geese. Squirrels and other rodents are also reported to eat the pea-sized seeds.
In early spring the spathe rises from the earth so fast, in a process called “respiration,” that heat is generated by burning carbs stored from the previous year. The spathe has a hooded shape characteristic of the Arums, and as it inflates around the spadix (flower stalk) creates a little “room” that is warm enough to melt surrounding snow. The heat, and the carrion odor, attract any nearby flies or other insects that are active this time of year. The skunk cabbage provides warm room and board for these insects, in return for exchanging pollen with other nearby plants.
This process only lasts for a couple of weeks, after which the leaves begin to unfurl. They can grow quite large, up to three feet long, and are inflated with air and water instead of the usual cellulose. They also lack any cuticle (waxy skin), which ordinarily helps plants retain moisture. Therefore, they require a swampy location to keep them inflated long enough to store energy for the following year. Once they have done their job, the capillaries are cut off and the leaves wither into a dark, mushy mess.
In 1723, Thomas More sent a package of seeds to William Sherard in London, explaining that the native people called them “Skunkroot because of his stinking smell” and reported that it was used for smoking. “I dryed and smoaked some on’t but it stunk so wretchedly as to make me spew” he reported.[1] It also had a number of medicinal uses, including as a lotion for itching, for whooping cough, scurvy, seizures, and as an underarm deodorant.[2]
No recommendation is made here to try Skunk cabbage for anything other than observing in the wild, but it does serve as an early spring tonic for black bears, wild turkey, and Canada Geese. Squirrels and other rodents are also reported to eat the pea-sized seeds.
c.Katherine Schlosser, 2007.
[1] Coffey, Thomas. The History and Folklore of North American Wildflowers” (New York: Facts On File, 1993), 290-91.
[2] Foster, Steven and Duke, James A. Eastern/Central Medicinal Plants, Peterson Field Guides (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1990) 202.
[1] Coffey, Thomas. The History and Folklore of North American Wildflowers” (New York: Facts On File, 1993), 290-91.
[2] Foster, Steven and Duke, James A. Eastern/Central Medicinal Plants, Peterson Field Guides (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1990) 202.
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