Monthly Archives: November 2023

Plantsgiving Time 2023!

By Susan Sprout

“Sweet, sweet, a little more sweet” is a mnemonic for identifying the rhythm of the Yellow Warblers’ calls when they cannot be seen among the foliage. It occurred to me that that could be my own personal call as well, along with many other folks, too! Pies, cakes, cookies, candy and much, much more are awaiting us at Thanksgiving and onward towards Christmas. This year, let us be thankful for all of the sweetness in our lives, starting with families, including pets, and extended families, and friends, perhaps with whom we may be sharing a Thanksgiving feast including dessert. We do love our sweets. Even after a full meal, we chow down on something “a little more sweet!” Biologists, who have studied the rise of humankind from our ancient ancestors, report that the taste of sweet we crave may have evolved as a way to detect sources of food with higher calories that could be converted for more energy, fueling rapid growth, and storing more fat to be used later. We may have evolved to seek out and consume plant parts that carry more sweet-tasting fruits, berries, roots.

As you plan and cook your meal, pay attention to the wide variety of ways we get our sweet fix. Many of our sources come in bags of crystals, white to brown, that are refined from grasses like sugarcane or roots like beets. We use a teaspoon here or there to kick up the taste of a recipe or cups of tea and coffee. Do not forget syrups made from the fruits of plants and trees like agave, coconut, monk fruit, and sugar maple. We wouldn’t have the sweetness of honey without the flower nectar collected by bees. It gets broken down into simple sugars that are evaporated in the hive making a thick syrup. It takes 556 worker bees to gather nectar from two million flowers to make one pound. Sugar substitutes should not be forgotten, either. When made with erythritol, this type of alcohol is synthesized from corn.

While you are thanking the plants, trees, bees, don’t forget the taste buds in your mouth and your brain. When our tongues touch sugar, the taste buds there send a signal to the brain, which reacts in a way that brings us pleasure. Our response to this sensation may have been fixed in place over millennia by natural selection and has become an instinct. The sweet taste tells you to keep eating. A bitter taste may tell you to spit it out. (Hmm, that could explain my aversion to some leafy, green veggies that are supposed to be good for me.) Have a Happy Plantsgiving!   

Underfoot: Osage Orange (Maclura pomifera)

By Susan Sprout

As an historical reenactor using the living history personae of a Pre-Columbian medicine woman or a colonial dame or a Civil War Era soldier, I have had the distinct honor of introducing the people visiting my presentations to the plants and trees that I love so much. One special tree that I was introduced to in Virginia twenty-four years ago near a Civil War reenactment is Osage Orange, Maclura pomifera, a member of the Mulberry Family, MORACEAE. It just grabbed my attention. If you happen upon one, hiking or driving by fencerows on backroads or near abandoned pasturelands after leaf fall, Osage Orange may grab your attention as well! The greenish-orange fruits on mature female trees can grow up to 4 and1/2 inches in diameter and hang there like early Christmas tree decorations until they fall off!

Sue Sprout posing with Osage Orange fruit and trees at an event.

Native to the southwestern part of the country – Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas – they are more common south of Pennsylvania, but they are found growing here and have been planted in many different states for a variety of reasons. Native Americans fashioned bows using their tight, springy wood; farmers and ranchers planted rows of them as prickly fences to keep livestock from straying. They are definitely not planted for food as they are inedible by everything despite the word “orange” in their name.

Looking up at Osage oranges from along the road.

I carried home with me the fruits of this amazing tree for years, trying to get them to grow nearby. I would just dig a hole and pop the fruits in it and let nature take its course. No luck, even though each one of those hunky fruits could contain hundreds of seeds. Ah ha! Those fruits must come from a female tree whose June flowers have been germinated by bees carrying pollen from a tree with male flowers! Finally! Three years ago, success appeared in the form of a small forest of tiny, two-leafed saplings growing up in a tangled mass. As young as they were, I recognized their bright dye-filled yellow roots as I transplanted them in a dish. I now have a grove of Osage Orange trees to bring into my house for winter. Their yellow fall leaves are just beginning to drift off. In the spring, they will be planted here and there outside. Hopefully, they will have both sexes of trees growing near each other so they can reproduce.