This group of plants are all in the Asteraceae (Composite or Sunflower family), the largest family of flowering plants. Within the Asteraceae, they are in the Eupatorieae tribe, a subgroup due the huge size of this plant family. And from here on in, it gets more confusing. At one point the genus Eupatorium comprised nearly 800 species, but the genus has since been broken up into a number of other smaller genera and work continues to be done on this genus and changes continue, leading to some complication.

Common names can be confusing as they are often locale-based. Boneset seems to be a standard name for E. perfoliatum, so that one’s easy. Joe pye weeds sometimes have an additional word attached such as Sweet or Hollow joe pye weed (or just joe pye). Who is Joe Pye? I don’t know, but there are a couple of good stories about who he may be. Perhaps you can make up another and add it to the Joe Pye myth collection. Gravel root most likely has to do with these plants use for kidney stones, which are also called ‘gravel’. ‘Snakeroot’ is a common name for quite a few plants, often purportedly due to being antidote for snakebites.

Here are some of the key differences between the Eupatoriums in this article. I have adapted the keys from The Vascular Plants of Northeastern US and Adjacent Canada by Gleason and Cronquist, to simplify the technical language.

Below are a few important terms. Please also see the descriptive photos.

1. Florets are the small individual flowers in the Asteraceae.
2. A Head is a group of florets within one involucre which are specialized bracts that surround the head of flowers and form an individual, discernible collection of florets.
3. Inflorescence is a collective term for many flower heads together.
4. A Node is where the leaves meet the stem.

Boneset and White snakebite-The leaves are opposite with 2 leaves per node

• Eupatorium perfoliatum (Boneset) is easily distinguishable by the way the leaves are joined to each other where they meet the stem (technically called perfoliate, hence the species name of this plant).
• Eupatorium rugosum (Ageratina altissima) White snakebite-Please note this plant is poisonous, make sure you identify plants accurately. White snakeroot is smaller than the other plants here which are usually more robust. White snakeroot is usually shorter and thinner. This one generally grows along the borders of woodlands, especially where it is disturbed, such as a road or path. The opposite leaves are somewhat thin, with a long leaf stalk (petiole).

Joe pye weed/Gravel root-All of these have 3 or more leaves per node

• Eupatorium maculatum has approximately 10-16 florets per head and the inflorescence is flat-topped. It is often found in lowlands and near water, and has the widest distribution of these three.
• E. purpureum and E. fistulosum have 4-7 florets per head and the inflorescence is convex (dome-shaped).
  • E. fistulosum the stem is more purplish throughout and is hollow with a large central cavity. The easiest way to identify this one is to just cut the stem and see if it is hollow, and also if the stem has a lot of purpling to it.
  • E. purpureum the stem is purplish mainly at the nodes and is not hollow or only has a slender central cavity. Also, this species tend to grow in drier habitats than the others.

In Gray’s Manual of Botany it says this about E. purpureum-“bruised             fresh plant strongly vanilla-scented”. This is what probably gave this species the common name Sweet joe pye weed. It is also the one trait that was not apparent when I found this plant.

The genus Eupatorium is large and has been revised a number of times. Some species, such as Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) have stayed within the genus while many others have been segregated out. The tall purple-flowered Joe pye weeds, have been changed twice recently from Eupatorium to Eupatoriadelphus and now seem settled into the genus Eutrochium. Other Eupatoriums have also been assigned different genera. Different authors have different opinions about this genus, so it is best to know past and current genera. One way to do that is to look at the synonym listing often accompanying a species from an online source such as The Flora of North America or Wikipedia.

Within this article, I have kept all the Eupatoriums together as a concept, but have listed their new genera as each species is discussed separately

Medicinal Uses-Joe pye weed/Gravel root

Something to consider about the different Gravel roots species as medicine is that while the Eclectic physician’s (a school of US doctor herbalists from about 1830-1910) mention E. purpureum but not E. maculatum or E. fistulosum, it could have to do with the botanical names of these species at the time. Both of these species were at one point considered subspecies of E. purpureum.
Within the older literature (such as King’s American Dispensatory, used by the Eclectic physician’s then and by herbalists today), there are many uses for this plant, including for pain in the urinary tract, incontinence, male and female reproductive issues, stomach disorders and a number of other health problems. But in general, herbalist’s today mainly use the roots for conditions relating to the urinary tract, especially as a diuretic and to help the passage of kidney stones. It is used as a tea and tincture for these conditions.

From a clinical standpoint, I am still learning about the how well they work in the above categories. I have used it for many years, generally with other herbs in diuretic formulas for prostatic conditions, urinary tract infections and for moving stones. In each one of these conditions, other plants were used as well (i.e., antimicrobials in UTI). Gravel root seems safe and I will continue to put it in these formulas, though it would be helpful to try it by itself to help quantify its efficiency.

At this pointing my practice I usually use E. purpureum as tincture and E. maculatum’s dried roots for tea. The reason for this is that I have enough of the ‘official’ species for tincture use, but have to gather fresh roots every few years. Since E. purpureum doesn’t grow around here, I use E. maculatum for this.

Boneset-Eupatorium perfoliatum

Boneset is easily identified apart from the Joe pye weeds (and most other plants) by the way the leaves are joined together around the stem.
This common wetland plant has a long rich history of medicinal use both in past and current practice. The leaves and flowers are taken as a tea or tincture, though it is quite bitter tasting. It is one of my favorite herbs for colds and influenza. It is relatively safe and a few good strong cups of the infusion or a dropperful or two of tincture every few hours can speed up the rate of recovery. Best to take it as soon as you feel the virus coming on (which is generally true for most medicines).

The Eclectic physician’s listed many uses for Boneset, including for “stomach disorders of the inebriate” but here is an important quote “In influenza it relieves the pain in the limbs and back. Its popular name, “boneset,” is derived from its well-known property of relieving the deepseated pains in the limbs which accompany this disorder, and colds and rheumatism”.

The reason I include the above quote because a common question is about whether Boneset can be used to mend broken bones, similar to Comfrey. While some herbalists do use it this way, it is more commonly used for viruses.  The name boneset is derived from two places. First, the leaves are attached in a way that some people see as a ‘doctrine of signatures’ suggesting that it can mend broken bones. The second, as in the above quote, is that Boneset has been used for viral infections which are often accompanied by bone and muscle pain, especially during a coughing fit. So by helping stop the virus, Boneset relieves this pain.
For anyone who lives around Boneset, I strongly suggest gathering a good amount of the leaves and unopened flower heads when you have the chance. They dry pretty easy and are helpful for respiratory viruses. They are also useful as a diaphoretic, to help bring on suppressed fever. (It is important to know when to break a fever versus when to suppress it).

White snakeroot-Eupatorium rugosum-(Ageratina altissima)

White snakeroot (Ageratina altissima, formerly Eupatorium rugosum) is mentioned here because of it poisonous infamy. And once again, there is some complexity with both its common and botanical names. There are many ‘snakeroots’, so it is important know which snakeroot one is handling. The botanical name was Eupatorium rugosum, which is still commonly used, though most newer field guides call it Ageratina altissima (I’m not sure why the species name was changed as well).
This plant is infamous for causing thousands of deaths of early colonists, as well as much livestock. This was especially true in the Ohio River Valley around the early to mid-1800’s.  In humans, the disease was eventually named ‘milk sickness’, in other animals ‘the trembles’. The cause of the illness was livestock ingestion of this plant, and if their milk was drunk, or the meat eaten, the poisonous chemical tremetol would be ingested, leading to the series of symptoms that was often fatal. There is a lot more to say about this disease, but I will leave it up to other sources (Wikipedia has a good write up) and this link (https://kb.osu.edu/dspace/bitstream/1811/1491/1/V06N04_463.pdf) which contains an interesting article written around the time people were afflicted with milk sickness.

This plant is common on the borders of the woods where the land has been disturbed. Sometimes it is a dominant plant there. It is the weediest of the plants mentioned here.

A Few Final Odds and Ends

All of these plants attract many butterflies and other insects. The next time you are near them when they are in flower, take a look in the flower head to see the diversity of the critters within.
Also, the Joe pye weed’s make lovely regal garden plants. If you have the right situation for them, they stand out nicely, but remember, they are big plants and need plenty of room. And remember all those butterflies they attract.

If you’ve made it this far, you should be considerably more informed about this group of plants. I hope that this information increases your admiration for these handsome, historically rich plants.

Boneset (Eupatrium perfoliatum, white flowered) and Joe pye weed (Eutrochium maculatum, purple-flowered)

This blog highlights the genus Eupatorium. Why Eupatorium? First, there is a story involved (isn’t there always?). Second, I think the genus Eupatorium and the name changes it has gone through are useful teaching devices to learn more about botanical names. Third, to help sort out the medicinal actions of this group of plants. And lastly, they are handsome helpful common plants, a good one get to know better and appreciate.

For this article, I am going to focus on the Eupatorium species that are the most relevant to herbalists. They are
1. Boneset-Eupatorium perfoliatum
2. Joe pye weed-Eupatorium (Eutrochium) purpureum, E. maculatum, E. fistulosum
3. White snakeroot-Eupatorium rugosum (Ageratina altissima).

A note on the word Eupatorium. It comes from King Mithridates VI of Pontus, also known as Eupator Dionysius. He lived circa 120-63 BC and has a very colorful history. The reason he is brought up here is that he fits into the herbal world through a concoction (little used today) called Mithridate, which is a poison antidote. Here is a bit of his story. His father was also a king who was killed by poison (a popular method then), and so as he ascended the throne he naturally worried about a similar fate. He tried to tilt the odds in his favor by continually taking very small amounts of a number of poisons. And it was also rumored that he had a special concoction that was a mixture of many substances that he drank to become resistant to being poisoned. There is much speculation on what these substances were, and you can see competing accounts of the ingredients if you look it up.
Here’s where it gets interesting (dare I say, ironic). Mithridates was a territory-expanding type of King, continually stepping on the toes of his Roman neighbors. When the Romans were sure to defeat Mithridates, instead of being captured he chose to kill himself, by poison. Unfortunately (get your ironic hats on) he was not able to kill himself as he was inured by all the years of taking sub-lethal doses of these poisons. (Not true for his family, who also took the poison before capture, they all died). So instead, he asked a guard to stab him to death with his sword. Not the cleanest way to die, but it worked well enough. And so, for many years afterwards, his special Mithridate formula was sought by those in similar circumstances (meaning, fear of being poisoned). Another variation of this drink (Galen wrote a book about it) is called theriac. Which lead later to the English word treacle.
It is hard to now how much of this tale, or formula are true, but it is well published, including accounts written around the time of his death.
I am not sure why this genus of these plants is named after him, but there are some poisonous Eupatoriums, such as White snakeroot (Eupatorium rugosum aka Ageratina altissima), so perhaps there was a poisonous species in his formula?
And so, Mithridate lends his name to a couple of plants

My Story

Here is the story behind my interest in these plants. It starts with Eupatorium purpureum, now Eutrochium purpureum. As someone who likes to be sure of a plant’s botanical identity (whether I am gathering it for medicine or not), I was reading up on the distinctions between the most commonly noted Gravel roots used in medicine, which are Eupatorium purpureum and Eupatorium maculatum. I also wanted to know about any similar looking plants so that included Eupatorium fistulosum. These are all commonly known as Joe pye weed.
It seemed that E. purpureum was a pretty common plant, and so with my field guides I began looking at these plants in my region and noticed right away that none of them fit the description of the ‘official’ species. I started asking knowledgeable folks and looking for drier habits it seemed to prefer, but just could not find it.

7Song and Joe pye weed (E. purpureum) finally, after many years of looking. Mark Twain NF, MO. July 15, 2007

I hear folks occasionally call various Joe pye weeds, Eupatorium purpureum, which are not (see Botany section below). Sometimes I say something, sometimes not, to avoid being even more of a killjoy than I already can be. But what is apparent is that herbalists are sometimes gathering Eupatorium maculatum rather than E. purpureum.

This is not a debate about which one is a better medicine, as I am not sure how to judge that without using them both regularly and recording the results. In the older texts, Eupatorium purpureum is mentioned much more than the others, which is why I was looking for that species. There is more about this under ‘Medicinal Uses’ below.

This story now moves to the Ozarks where I was driving along a dirt back road with a couple of students. Now one thing I want to say about this part of the country is that in my short time there, I saw more unusual plants than I usually see elsewhere. Here is where there is Echinacea purpurea still growing wild, and I saw Polygala senega for my first time and came across Eryngium yuccifolium and Grindelia lanceolata. All interesting plants to me. And so my eyes were open for other unusual botanicals. And as we were driving along and cresting a hill there by roadside, bordering the woods, was a Eupatorium patch that looked like it should have been lower down near the streams.
And so I jumped out of the car, and began counting the florets; 7 in this one, 5 in that one, good so far. Then I started going to individual plants in the area and counting from different plants to make sure it was not an individual anomaly. Nope, the number of florets was consistent. Next, was the stem hollow? (Please don’t be hollow…). And sure enough, not hollow except a bit at the nodes. And the coloring, purple mainly at the nodes. Yes! After so after many years of counting florets and smelling crushed up leaves, here on this Ozark back road, was Eupatorium purpureum. And like other Joe pye weeds, full of butterflies and other insects.
I then spent some more time making sure it was the correct species, taking photos, and digging up some roots (it was a good sized stand and expanding).
And that is my Eupatorium purpureum story.

Sweet joe pye weed (E. purpureum). Mark Twain NF, MO. July 15, 2007

Crafting Herbal Formulas for Individual Constitutions with 7Song Part II – Ithaca Freeskool Distance Learning from Shira Golding on Vimeo.

Crafting Herbal Formulas for Individual Constitutions with 7Song – Ithaca Freeskool Distance Learning from Shira Golding on Vimeo.

One of my favorite vantage points at the canyon

Kiva Canyon Country

December 11, 2010
It’s easy to forget what quiet is like. Especially having been in 3 airports on 3 airplanes, and one windowless jeep with a snorkel next to my right ear.
But then, you light the woodstove and let the lack of peripheral sounds envelop you.

My second time visiting Kiva and clan, and it just gets better as I learn my way around a little more
It is 8:45 pm, in this cabin (the Gifting Lodge), and I am glad to be off the road. It started around 5 am after a somewhat sleepless night. Christian the Apprentice gave me a ride to the Ithaca airport and while it looked like a promising start, it quickly went downhill as the first of 3 flights was delayed because the pilot forgot to turn off the emergency lights on the plane, and so they had to recharge them, which took about 1½ hours. Damn, that just felt like a stupid thing to happen, and it altered the schedule for the rest of the day.

But instead of going into all the details of how I did eventually get here (and only an hour later than scheduled) I just want to say that I am very glad to be here. And light the wood stove. And breathe the quiet.

9:15 pm, comfy bed, headlamp on (no electricity-which is a word I pronounce in a way that invites sniggles). I look forward to hopefully falling and staying asleep. And even more so to waking up and seeing these surroundings. And to go to the river and listen and watch. And to see Rhiannon and Loba and Wolf. And of course, Kiva.

The Gifting Lodge-where I stayed and enjoyed the quiet and light

December 12, 2010
Close to 7 am. There is something about the quiet here (including the streaming sounds of the San Francisco River) that keeps my dreams tossing and turning. As if there is room for them to move around, unhindered by my home’s daily-activities devices, or the constant buzz of the MAMR (modern American motel room). So I wake up wondering why I am lost again on the Long Island Expressway or who these threatening toughs are in some nameless school.
But I draw myself out from the bunched-up warm comforter while it is still dark and put my headlamp on, get the woodstove going, put on some tea, and relax into the sounds of the still southwest mountainscape.

Sensory memories return of my 10 years (not so very long ago) living without electricity outside of Ithaca. There is a general stillness, and the smells seem sharper when electricity is removed. The quiet becomes more enveloping allowing other senses to move more forward

Today I will learn some new plants here. Start distinguishing the Juniper and Oak species, and try to tease out the name of the all the smaller plants in their dried withered states. But I will be fortunate and have the sharp mind of Kiva Anemone Rose to help me sort these out. Fortunate am I.

December 13, 2010

Getting close to 6 am. I am waking early as I feel the pull of sleep much earlier here, without lights, without all the stimulation. I suppose that soon enough I would adapt and go back to my normal sleep cycle, but I am generally a ‘morning person’ and like to get up before the sun has finished coloring the sky.
Today is my last full day visiting. Tomorrow I will be driven back to Albuquerque and fly out Wednesday morning, hoping my flights are easier on the way back. I am already sad to leave. I don’t mind getting back home and working on winter projects, but I will miss this family, and the beauty and quiet of this land.

Juniperus monosperma (One-seeded Juniper), a common tree here

Yesterday, it was another bright warm day, at least by early afternoon. Somewhere in the 50’s perhaps. And Kiva and I took some walks and she showed me the plants that are identifiable at this time of the year. Mostly the trees and shrubs and then the strongly aromatic herbs like Pennyroyal (Hedeoma sp) and Wild mint (Mentha arvensis). Besides being a good friend, I learn a lot from Kiva. She has a creative intelligent mind with sharp eyes to distinguish the changes in her surroundings. And notices the Lilliputian alterations to her environment as well as the larger details. I am also enjoying the other folks here. I spend a good amount of time talking with Loba in the kitchen eating some damned fine delicious food. (A warning to all whom visit here, it may be hard to enjoy eating out ever again, as you will be spending a bunch of money for food that is only ½ as good as Loba prepares on her old-styled wood stove). And then there is Rhiannon (whom I am calling Rhiannorhea these days) Kiva’s 10-year old daughter and a child of the Southwestern Mountains. Sprightly and funny and smart, I am glad to get to spend some time with her on my visits here as we leap into each others imaginations and listen to Rhiannon’s true encounters with Bear and Elk and Mountain Lions.
True to his namesake, I only get furtive glances at Wolf, who has lived here for 30 or so years. But again, I am glad for our short conversations, and listening to someone who thinks long and hard about humans place in the environment and someone who cares greatly about the world.
It is about 6:15 and still dark. In about 2 hours or so, I will make my way up to the homestead of the above characters, have some delicious tea and an awesome breakfast in the company of some fantastic and individualistic people. I am surely glad to be here.

Kiva Rose-gigling while driving 'The Beast'

]]> http://7song.com/blog/2010/12/kiva-roses-canyon-country/feed/ 7 http://7song.com/blog/2010/08/bog-blog/ http://7song.com/blog/2010/08/bog-blog/#comments Mon, 30 Aug 2010 01:10:33 +0000 7Song http://7song.com/blog/?p=64

McCarty Bog in the Adirodacks. Roaming this enviornment and feeling the wind blowing acr9ss the open expanse

Bog Blog

They are also the main source of ‘peat’ (that’s turf to you Irish). Peat is made up of decomposing plant matter. It is fuel for many people in places where there is a lack of other sources, such as trees. There is an abundance of peat on this here planet. If you put it into the reductionist terms (and why not?) it contains 8 billion terajoules of energy, which to put simply, is a shit-ton (there is the inevitable comparison to the atomic bomb, but why bother). This stuff is pre-coal by the way. Give it some time.

I like that bogs have such popular appeal in descriptive terminology. While it often reflects seemingly negative attributes, they still conjure the Primordial Bog.
Getting bogged down is the case when actually walking in bogs. Each step may have feet sinking deeper and deeper, until you finally find a place of some sturdier earth stuff that will support your weight. But it’s usually just a short matter of time before you sink back into the quagmire (another word for bog).

The term ‘bogginess’ shows up in health care, as a sort of constitutional diagnosis. A boggy constitution is one where everything moves slowly, whether it is gastrointestinal enzymes, immune competency or ways of thinking. It seems an apropos description, for this is how bogs work. With little in-flow adding to the water table there is little movement. It is easy to consider this scene in someone who has sluggish conditions. The difference here is that the bog ecology is healthy in itself and doesn’t require any alteration.

There are, of course, plants to see here. What more interesting group of plants are there than the carnivorous ones? It is amazing how a group of phylogenetically unrelated plants could evolve diverse novel strategies to acquire the food they cannot obtain the way most plants do. That is, they have learned to trap various small organisms, such as insects, nematodes and other diminutive life-forms to supplement their meager soil food. All of the below descriptions are just snippets of how these plants do the deed, there are many excellent resources available for further elucidation of these fascinating contrivances,.

Drosera rotundifolia-Round-leaved sundew at Francis Lake in the Adirondacks, NY

While the Venus fly-trap is often the plant most conjured in people’s minds with its teethy leaves, it actually has a very small growing region restricted to the Carolina’s. The most common carnivorous bog plants are the Sundews (Drosera species, Droseraceae). While they are not all that big and showy, they are handsome plants. The flowers are attractive but it is the leaves that lend them their elegance. Their shiny dewdrop nature with bits of enticing fluid on the tips of the hairs which help trap prey. Yes, prey – plants trapping animals. This helps give life on earth a fresh balance. After the insect lands, it becomes entangled in the sticky hairs and is further trapped as it tries to free itself. The leaf then starts to curl up to further ensnare the insect and begin the process of protein digestion until just a skeleton is remaining. Isn’t nature lovely?

I like the look of Drosera, the bright red leaves against the green and red sphagnum. Sometimes large swaths of it color wetland landscape. There are a number of species, usually obvious by the shape of its leaves. All of them designed to grab a meal, so next time you are in a bog take a closer look at these beauties and perhaps you will see one in action.

Two other common carnivorous plants are the Bladderworts and Pitcher Plants. Pitcher plants (Sarracenia purpurea, Sarraceniaceae) often capture people’s attention right off with their lovely towering pitcher-like leaves. And while the p

Kalmia polifolia-Bog laurel in Panther meadow on Mt. Shasta, CA

etals fall off the flowers early, the rest of the inflorescence (flowering stem) is conspicuous and adds to this plants allure. Like Sundew, the colors of Pitcher Plants are red and green, but the red is more of a brick red, and is beautifully mottled on the leaves.

Chamaedaphne calyculata-Leatherleaf in Dryden bog, not far from Ithaca, NY

While sticky hairs entrap little critters in the sundews, the pitcher plant has a different strategy (but same ends, more food). The leaf is shaped in a way that holds water. And within this water there are proteolytic enzymes that break down those creatures that cannot escape. Adding to this device, there are downward pointing hairs along the leaf making it harder for anything of a certain size to crawl out. And below that it gets mighty slippery. The insect that is drawn to the color and venation of the leaf lands and starts getting moved down the pitcher by the hairs and then starts sliding into the watery cup. From there it drowns and enzymes and bacteria do the rest of the work to help dissolve it into a Sarracenia-sized meal. You can often see remnants if you look in the prominent leaves. I don’t know if I have ever taken any group to a bog without someone inquiring about sticking their finger into the water at the bottom of the modified leaf (the more adventurous inquire about drinking it… bad idea, chaps).

The Bladderworts (Utricularia species; Lentibulariaceae) have a very different sort of entrapping device. They use small bladders attached to their water-submerged parts that open quickly, sucking in both nearby water and the varmint that sets off this trapping mechanism. It then shuts close, thereby diabolically ensnaring the unsuspecting creature. And once again, enzymes and bacteria do their work. The whole trap takes a thousandth of a second or so to do this. Yup, that fast. Later, it will open up and discharge the skeletal remains, alter its internal pressure and prepare for its next meal. There are many of these nodule traps scattered along the underwater parts of the plant (I say parts as they are not very well delineated in Utricularia). The size of the bladder (the ‘utricles’) determines the size of the prey it can capture. Some are large enough to suck small tadpoles in, though the critters tend to be much smaller, something our eyes may barely discern.

While carnivorous plants are one of the more unique plants of bogs, there are others that have evolved to live in this environment. The Ericaceae -the Blueberry family-have many bog-tolerant species. Some of these are quite tasty and have been drawing humans and other animals to snack here for a while, the most notable being cranberries and blueberries (Vaccinium spp). Other members of this family include Bog Rosemary (Andromeda polifolia), Leatherleaf (Chamaedaphne calyculata), the aromatic Labrador Tea (Ledum groenlandicum) and the especially lovely Bog Laurel (Kalmia polifolia). The Ericaceae are acid soil tolerant plants in general so I guess it is not such a big jump to find them in this acidy ecosystem. But still, it is interesting to see how a family of plants have evolved with their habitat.

The most plentiful plant of bogs is that non-vascular, spore-producing bryophyte: Sphagnum moss (Sphagnum species-Sphagnaceae). Basically a bog is this moss. It acts as a sponge to hold the atmospheric water in place. This moss is also the substrate for many of the other plants. While peat and sphagnum are not synonymous, most peat is mainly decayed sphagnum moss. It is the sphagnum that you sink into, and the moss that keeps the water acid so that humans who have fallen in 2000 years ago are well-preserved. The sphagnum moss (of which there are numerous species) make the luxuriant growth the spreads out in all directions and lets you know you’ve arrived.

Personally, I like all of the types of wetlands. While generally a slog to move through them, there is much to be seen once in their clutches. It is just a matter of being prepared and enjoying the feeling of wet clothing and avoiding the buggiest hours. That said, I still like bogs best. Their vista allows ones head to roam elsewhere and still be present in the quagmire.

I will draw to a close

McLean Bog, near where I live. A favorite haunt

here. It is tempting to write about the other bog inhabitants. The various dragonflies and other insects, the amphibians, the way that the spores are shot out of the spore-producing capsules of the sphagnum moss. The showy orchids. All very intriguing. But what I most recommend is to find the closest bog, and immerse yourself there. Try to get there at different times of the year. The seasonal change here is evident, each one with a ravishing beauty. Be prepared for sinking up to your waist, for the biting insects, for the wonder to be found. Have fun and say hello to a damselfly for me.

(Note-like most of what I write this is probably more about me than Frank, and I have not wavered from writing what I feel to be true about Frank within the context of our long-term relationship. This is a warning.)

I’m in the airport, on my way home after flying to Asheville, NC for Frank Cook’s memorial service. Frank Cook is dead. Good-bye Frank, I miss you already.

I am tired, but feel good about my last minute decision to scrap a bunch of plans (sorry Bevin) and moolah and go to this event. In the midst of all these last minute preparations and travels, it all feels a bit unreal. And I get the feeling that some distant day I will reflect on Frank and be thankful to have been a part of this event with so many of Frank’s friends and family. So many of them are my friends too. I reckon this speaks to the nature of Frank’s and mine relationship, that is, our relationship to each other, our relationships with the people we meet and share time with, and with that abiding fascination we both shared about plants.

I am coming to learn how much Frank meant to me, thinking about his future absence in my life. It is sad to imagine being at the Rainbow Gathering, treating leaky butts and buggy feet, and not having Frank show up with his big deep rumbling voice, giving me a hearty salutation. And of course our immediate discussions on the plants around us. The plant families, genera and species as well other aspects of the local flora, with Frank generally being enthused about something plant-world like. It could be some plant we have not seen before together (perhaps a Saxifragaceae or an under-explored species of Ligusticum). But generally Frank would be excited about the diversity, meaning just glad to be around the plants, wherever we were. This of course was a balm to the stress I would be having treating people in the first aid station. Here was a fellow plant-enjoyer. And a friend as well as solidifying our long-term relationship with the ever-growing panoply of plants in our lives.

When it comes to the number of plants actually seen I don’t hold the metaphoric candle to Frank. What with his worldwide travels and devotion to seeing a member of each family of plants. A worthy goal and enviable to me. Not that I would choose his lifestyle; constant traveling and having a personal relationship with the likes of Malaria, Ross river virus, and any number of bacteria, viruses and protozoa infiltrating his tissues. And eventually infiltrating his good brain. Shit. It’s not like I haven’t seen Frank look and cough like the specter of death wasn’t a few feet away polishing her nails and waiting for the soon-to-be corpse of this good man.  But of course he would fight back, stubborn as the former jock he was, and look reasonably good again. Perhaps a bit thinner (also enviable during this metabolic slow down in my life), but the coughing would decrease, and his pantheonic energies would rise again.

It was his enthusiasm, wasn’t it? His personal engagement with life. His constant admonishment to live. Or not just live, but to be engaged with your life. “Look around you!” I don’t know how many times I have heard Frank herald this call. “Look around you!” he would say to all those attending his words. “Look around you!”, and indeed we did, and would see whatever it was that we saw around us. Generally I saw plants, the plants around me. And I would smile that smile that comes from having a connection with my environment and knowing the plants by their names. “Hello Pinus ponderosa” I might say quietly. “Hello Veratrum californicum” And these hello’s came to me after hearing Frank once again give voice to see those ‘beings’ around us.

Ah yes, the word ‘beings’. This drove me crazy. I’m not sure why, perhaps my instinct to not lump all of life together. Or perhaps a knee-jerk reaction to spirituality. But the ironic aspect is that this particular wording caught on. For the past few years while giving plant walks I hear participants talk about plants as ‘beings’, even using the inflection that Frank gave. This is another way that Frank lives on, offering another way to view and describe the plants around us. The term now has an endearing quality, hearing Frank’s voice through people uttering this word.
  
Now. I guess even here, in the busy Charlotte airport Frank might be saying to look around me. But it would be entirely different. It would show Frank’s more critical, judgmental side. We would be looking around us here and seeing people hurrying about, not really seeing the humanity around them. Seemingly closed, purchasing crap food from feckless industry dispensers, he would probably pontificate about the pointlessness of this type of lifestyle and their inability to see around them. Frank and I might get into one of our many arguments here. But even if our voices got raised, we would end with a faux toast to the stream of individuals passing before us, wishing them all well as they passed by.

Frank’s life was a well-lived one, no? This guy met thousands of people, many of whom lives he altered. I can surely vouch for this, as people often tell me how much Frank has changed their perspective.  (I reckon I am some kind of Frank Cook sounding board). And I like to hear it. I am proud to have been a teacher in the continual learning process of Frank Cook.

Frank the Human.  At the memorial we all learned this well as family members and friends stepped to the dock on the pond and spoke their recollections of Frank. And what a Frank he was. It seems that Frank has always been an intense (understatement, right?) individual. Focused. And idealistic. I liked those qualities, along with all the other aspects of the Frank experience. I generally appreciated the humanness in Frank; his foibles and frailties as well as obvious strengths. I guess they make me feel better about my own. While Frank was often a larger-than-life person for many, it was the human Frank I watched grow for 15 years that I now hold in my heart.

I am appreciative that I got to watch Frank grow into his most recent, ever-expanding, incarnation. Watching Frank struggle with parts of himself, looking to accommodate competing aspects of his psyche and body. Bully for you Frank, integrity does not come easy, and the struggle for it is also an inspiration for all of us trying to be better people.

Good-bye Frank Cook. I did not get to say it while you were laying in the hospital bed dying, but I am saying it now. To myself, but that is where you live now for me, in the neurotransmitters and neurons that make up my thoughts. I am glad you are there.
 

 It’s strange, so many years ago (1981) when I began studying in California, herbalism was such a fringe idea. Waaaay to the hippie side. And as it steadily rose in prominence, at first I was gratified, as lots more people began taking it more seriously.  But then something I hadn’t thought about, but I reckoned I should have seen coming began.  And that was/is, the commercialization of herbal medicines.

I feel so naive not thinking that where there was a profit, there was a corporation. And so while I have mixed feelings about herbal medicine being available in Wal-mart and  large store outlets, I worry more about  the reductionism of herbal medicine. What many of us saw as a holistic model of medicine, became the simple trope of take this for that. A herb/drug for a symptom. And  while this does occasionally work, this simplistic notion was then used to sell a wide array of products. But of course! With little thought about the consumer/patient

But somehow back there in the 1980’s as we thought about herbal medicine perhaps entering the mainstream (never thinking it would happen so soon) (and with such a cash influx), it was seen as an alternative to more conventional symptom-treating paradigm. Well live and learn.

This is one of the reasons I really appreciate working at the Ithaca Free Clinic. Many of the folks who come there are looking to enter the world of herbalism without knowing much about holistic medicine. And so gently, we can introduce the concepts of connecting the symptom patterns and perhaps taking more control of their health care. And taking herbs.
So I appreciate this award if it brings more people to the clinic (and of course it makes my mom happy, no little thing that). And I hope we can bring holistic medicine, particularly herbalism, into other free and conventional clinics. So when people see the wall of herbs at Wal-mart, they go beyond thinking just about symptom treating, but how they can be a healthier individual

Michael Moore, the herbalist, died of kidney complications on February 20.  I wrote a tribute to him here.
This is only a small bit about how I feel about Michael. Like all relationships, it is complicated. Fourteen years after initially studying with him, it is obvious how important his impact has been on my life as an herbalist. For me, he was a major permission-giver. That is, after being in a classroom and watching how others reacted to him, I realized I can be more myself in a classroom, with little pretension. Of course I am no Michael Moore, but I feel that I can contribute a little something to the way we practice herbal medicine in the United States. And cursing all the way through.

So I will come in with branches and chopping tools and a bag of herbal medicines and see what we can learn from each other with such an array.