| Cover Story | Plant Life | On Fitness | Northwest Living | Taste | Now & Then | Sunday Punch |
WRITTEN BY VALERIE EASTON |
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| Native Wisdom A unique garden helps us get in touch with both plants and peoples
The Erna Gunther Ethnobotanical Garden houses more than 100 different species of plants that grow near our rivers and beaches, in our pasturelands and on mountain slopes. In front of the Burke they're grown in a cramped spot surrounded by paving, but the plants thrive, thanks to care from botanist and curator Susan Libonati. Volunteers meet for lunch and weeding parties, tidying up between the sword fern, goat's beard and salmonberry. The garden was founded in 1984 in honor of Erna Gunther, longtime museum director, much-loved educator and social activist. Her slim volume, "Ethnobotany of Western Washington" (University of Washington Press, 1945), is still the bible on native-plant lore. Years ago, when I took my daughter to art classes every Saturday morning at the Burke, I chose to dally among the garden's plant labels rather than head straight for the Burke's café and coffee. These signs tell a fascinating story of knowledge, thrift and lost ways, outlining the utilitarian, culinary and medicinal uses of the plants in this special garden. Our region's native peoples put Martha Stewart to shame in their ability to make the most of whatever came to hand, from mighty cedar trees used to construct ceremonial long houses to vanilla grass woven into a sweet-tasting baby's rattle or teething ring. While gardeners may be attracted to the delicate beauty of our native columbine (Aquilegia formosa), for instance, Libonati says school kids are fascinated to hear that Native Americans ground its toxic seeds into a paste to get rid of head lice. Over the years, Libonati has learned to be careful in her labeling. One plant disappeared after a sign identified it as a love potion. She has also worked to expand and improve the garden, winnowing out plants unable to survive in such an urban setting.
Just this year, to complement a native basketry exhibit, she added trough gardens featuring wetland plants used to weave baskets and mats. The troughs are now thick with American sweet grass (a three-cornered sedge that grows in salt water), nettles (whose fibers were used mostly for string) and cattails that house spongy material ideal for weaving both baskets and soft sleeping mats.
Sword ferns. Nearly every single bit of this plant was used in one way or another. The rhizomes were peeled and baked in a pit, then served with fresh or dried salmon eggs; its leaves were used to line the baking pit, as well as for mattresses. The young leaves were chewed to soothe a sore throat. The Quinaults boiled the roots and washed their hair in the resultant water to cure dandruff. Lummi women chewed the new, curled leaves to hasten childbirth. The fleshy foliage of broad-leaf sedum was chewed as an emergency water source when people were unsure of the safety and cleanliness of other water. The wood of ocean spray (Holodiscus discolor) is tough and won't burn, making it ideal for roasting tongs, canoe paddles and arrow shafts. The bark was also peeled and boiled and taken as a tea tonic for convalescents and athletes. Yew wood was used for tool handles, and also as a traditional cancer remedy long before modern medicine discovered its anti-cancer properties. To learn more about native plants and how they were used, "Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast," by Pojar and MacKinnon (Lone Pine Publishing, 1994), is an excellent, updated overview of the subject and includes plant photos missing in Gunther's older treatment. Valerie Easton is a horticultural librarian and writes about plants and gardens for Pacific Northwest magazine. She is the co-author of "Artists in Their Gardens" from Sasquatch Books. Her e-mail address is vjeaston@aol.com.
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| Cover Story | Plant Life | On Fitness | Northwest Living | Taste | Now & Then | Sunday Punch |