Wormwood is specific for colds or flu. Coltsfoot is specific for bronchitis and respiratory congestion.
The third class, “heroic” herbs, is included in the Poisonous Plants section on page 175. Though some of these plants have use in pharmacy and clinical herbalism, detailing such advanced use is beyond the scope of this book. Incorrect dosing could potentially result in death.
Learning More About a Plant & Notes on Botanical Names
If you want to look up more information on a plant, it is essential to do so by botanical name. This book provides for each plant the name of the genus and species, and family, listed in that order. Algae also list their division. Common names for plants vary widely, even within Alaska. Wild celery, for example, is used regionally for Heracleum lanatum (cow parsnip), Ligusticum scoticum (beach lovage), and Angelica species (Angelica).
Genus and species names are often derived from the Latin or Greek, and some names, translated, describe the plant or its properties. Urtica (stinging nettle), for example, is from the Latin uro, “to burn.” Streptopus amplexifolius (twisted stalk) literally means “the twisted stalk with the clasping leaf.”
If you’re intimidated about proper pronunciation of botanical names, relax. “As anyone who has worked with a lot of professional botanists knows,” writes seedsman J.L. Hudson, “there is no agreement among them as to the correct pronunciation of names, and everyone pronounces them however they like.” Just say them with confidence.
Even if all you can pinpoint is the former botanical name, this book, Wikipedia, Thomas J. Elpel’s Botany in a Day, or other resources will still guide you to your desired plant.
You may notice that some plants in this book have changed genus completely (fireweed is now Chamerion instead of Epilobium). Families have flipflopped around and many now have “tribes” and “sub-tribes.” This is because botanists are now using DNA analysis to determine relationships of one plant to another, rather than just the patterns of flower arrangement.
But don’t fret about what the botanists are doing. Whether or not you can “key” a plant botanically, or recognize all the plants by family, you can still become skilled at safely identifying plants.
My grandmother, and indigenous plant people throughout Alaska, did not have access to academic plant keys. Yet they were phenomenal herbalists. They used their senses, and their common sense.
Using Herbs in Our Everyday Life is Our Birthright
Medical herbalist Richard Whelan points out that “the reason that herbs can never be patented and owned by any individual or corporation is because they are, and always will be, the People’s medicine.” And Montana herbalist Robyn Klein reminds us that our right to use herbs or other botanicals is protected by the Dietary Supplement Health and Education Act of 1994 passed by Congress.
Learning to use herbs for ourselves, our families, our animals, and our communities is a life skill worthy of developing.
Perhaps you’re like me, raised in the “time of the great forgetting” of herbal knowledge. Growing up in New England in the 1950s, my parents treated our cuts and scrapes with mercurochrome or a pharmacy antiseptic. Upset stomachs earned a dose of hot-pink Pepto-Bismol®. More serious illnesses triggered doctor’s visits and penicillin. It wasn’t until decades later that I learned that my father’s mother (who I never got to meet) had been an herbalist. For grandmother Eugenie, herbs were her allies. The kids’ colds and flu were soothed with yarrow, and wounds with plantain poultices.
Today I follow in her footsteps, using the exact same herbal allies for tending my family and livestock, along with a much-broadened repertoire of local wild plants for enhanced well-being. Looking back, after 4 decades of incorporating “wild things” into my life, I can attest to the benefits of these nutrient-dense foods. Though eating weeds and wild plants can’t guarantee ongoing health, they certainly can help stack odds in your favor. My parents both had adult onset diabetes when they were 2 decades younger than I am now. I’m thankfully still free of pharmaceuticals.
The act of foraging in nature makes use of the best doctors in the world. As described in the nursery rhyme:
“The best six doctors anywhere and no one can deny it
Are sunshine, water, rest, and air, exercise and diet.”
Foraging the wild weaves together all these elements. So be sensible, but be unafraid. Put your toe in the earth and start foraging. May you experience deep health and happiness, as you enjoy the pursuit of herbs.
Free-Range Plants
The plants I dub the “free rangers” are extremely adaptable and difficult to pin down to any one habit. With mustards, for example, I address the entire forager-friendly family in one entry. Some mustards tend to favor beaches, others open rocky places, and some prefer your garden soil. Listing them under one habitat is far too limiting. And plants like coltsfoot mystified me, as our first encounter was in open forest, by a creek. Then I discovered it thriving in a sunny meadow. And later, in the mountains on rocky scree slopes. In Kotzebue, coltsfoot is prolific on the tundra. So coltsfoot, shown here below, is now another of the free-range plants.
WILD MUSTARD
Mustard family (Brassicaceae, formerly Cruciferae family)
BRASSICA
SPOONWORT
MUSTARD FLOWER (ROCKCRESS)
SHEPHERD’S PURSE
Alaska’s mustards are highly variable in genera, habitat, leaf shape, and in the shape of their seedpods. The good news is that the entire family is highly “friendly” to foragers. Moreover, all mustard flowers have an easily recognizable floral pattern: 4 petals, with 6 yellow thread-like male stamens—of which 4 are tall and 2 are short. As a memory boost, remember: “4 fine fellows with 2 tiny tims.” The female portion is the pistil. Mustard pistils mature into the seedpods of remarkable variety. To see mustard’s floral characteristics well, use a pocket loupe (magnifier). Most wild mustards have small flowers, but pods and flowers are often visible at the same time. After a short while, you will just begin to spot mustards at a glance wherever you go, even in your own backyard. All of Alaska’s mustards are safe to nibble, though not every single species appeals to the palate, the highly bitter “wormseed” (Erysimum) being my personal “yuck” on edibility. But as long as you can positively discern “mustard” and your plant passes your palatability test, you’re good to go.
Common to cultivated and disturbed soils are mustards including the ubiquitous yellow-flowered Brassicas (commonly called wild mustard or rapeseed), and the tasty rockcress, aka wild cress (Arabis species).
Spoonwort, aka scurvygrass
