The Rivanna Rambler

March 27, 2008

 

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This show originally aired on March 27, 2008 on “The Rivanna Rambler,” a weekly public affairs show airing every Thursday at 11:55 a.m. on WTJU 91.1 FM or wtju.net.

About the same time that forsythia brazenly claims the color award in yards all over the watershed, there’s a quieter, but no less remarkable, yellow emerging in the hills and woodlands, especially in the damper, cooler swales. You could almost miss it if you were expecting something more dramatic, but it’s worth stopping and taking a closer look at the shy but ubiquitous spicebush, also known as Benjamin Bush.

Last weekend, we walked the Thomas Jefferson Parkway to see what this week of spring had to offer in the way of blooms and buds. After we enter the woods, I see the arcing branches of a shrub blending into the background of dull gray-brown leaf litter spattered by the sun and shadow on the winter-old bark of poplars, hickories, and oak. But small static bursts of lemon-yellow adorn the stems, alternating in the manner of the leaves that will soon emerge.

I pull a stem towards me and scrape the bark, smelling the tell-tale odor – like a touch of allspice with a hint of lemon. Leaves, bark, twigs and berries are all infused with terpenes, like many plants of the family that also includes such aromatic trees and shrubs as sassafras, cinnamon, camphor, bay, and the true laurel. The oil of benzoin has been extracted from spicebush for centuries and used as a remedy for a variety of ills. Some called the oil, “Benjamin,” giving rise to the plants’ alternate name. During the Civil War, soldiers brewed tea from the leaves and twigs of the spicebush – and ground and dried leaves and twigs make a fine substitute for allspice. But these days, commercial benzoin is derived from other plants, such as sweet gum, leaving the spicebush as a source of food for numerous birds and the ever-common white tailed deer.

The flowers, however, do not offer this identifying smell. They are surprisingly tiny, arising like exclamation marks from delicate petals. Male flowers on male plants are smaller and somewhat less intricate. Female plants eventually give rise to the bright red berries that emerge in the fall, full of oil for over-wintering birds. The plants are pollinated by a variety of insects and are common in moist woodlands and emerging wetlands as well as drier soils. Later in the week on a drive around the watershed, I see them in the forest under story of the Southwest Mountains as well as Shenandoah National Park. On our walk up the back side of Carter’s mountain, it’s lemon yellow blossoms brighten the woods.

A yellow and black butterfly, probably a swallowtail, wings away from us. It’s cousin, the spicebush swallowtail, is darker and is dependent upon the spicebush, along with the Sassafras tree, as food and shelter during its larval stages. From the first molt, through successive instars, the caterpillars excrete and strategically places masses of silk like dots of glue that dry, pulling the leaf into a fold over the insect to protect it in its cocoon. These caterpillars also have a bright orange scent gland that releases a strong odor like concentrated spicebush to ward off predators.

Before I started to learn about the importance of native plants to the ecosystems of our watershed, I relied on the gaudy yellow of forsythia as the true marker of spring surely on its way. Forsythia, imported from Asia into North America in the early 1900’s, has become a standard border bush of middle America, easy to grow, few predators and pests, and hardy for many years. Trouble-free, as the gardening books say. Yet along with so many other non-native plants, forsythia has little to offer birds or butterflies.

Spicebush, however, is also hardy and is an excellent choice for an easy to grow, native plant that is at the same time beneficial to wildlife. It can tolerate a lot of shade and does well in most soil types, including clay. In my quest to “go native,” I will find a home for the spicebush in my city yard so that next year, it may offer its sweet yellow blooms as harbinger to the coming spring.