June 8, 2010
Transferable foraging skills: How well would you do?
Sean Rowe, the foraging troubador
A couple of weeks back I had the good fortune spend some time with Sean Rowe (rhymes with ‘how’) from Albany, New York. During that time I was treated to two sides of Sean’s talents. You see, not only is he a gifted singer/songwriter (on tour promoting his latest album ‘Magic’) but also an enthusiastic and knowledgeable forager, keen to be out in the nearest available ‘wilderness’. The Bushcraft Magazine filmed us out on a foray. Sean has his own wilderness blog and is currently editing a copy of the video to accompany his own musical soundtrack.
I was interested to see how someone would fare so far out of their comfort zone. I have read extensively on North American wild forage and, as I mentioned in my previous blog the two continents have relatively few plants in common apart from accidental imports and a few Northern Hemisphere-spanning species – such as Cattails (Typha latifolia) and Fireweed (Epilobium angustifolium).
The first British plant we encountered that Sean was familiar with was Garlic Mustard (Alliaria petiolata), which he told me is regarded as an introduced invasive weed by the US Department of Agriculture. He commented that while it grows patchily in my local woods, back home near Albany it shows a different habit, carpeting extensive areas of the forest floor and thus making foraging easy. Sean knew the Latin name, so I knew we were talking about the same plant.
Garlic Mustard or Jack-by-the-Hedge (Alliolaria petiolata)
The Latin name was a decisive point of reference and really helped communication and understanding, as it was always intended. I showed Sean Hogweed (Heracleum sphondylium) for instance, and he was able to describe to me the differences in appearance and uses of the North American variety, Heracleum lanatum because we were clear about both Family and Genus. Later, Sean stopped to examine a tree leaf and said it reminded him of a Linden – Tilia, and I confirmed that he was correct in his assessment. He was looking at our Common Lime (a.k.a. Linden), a hybrid – Tilia X vulgaris, which he differentiated from Tilia americana for me.
Sean’s broad knowledge of plants in general enabled him to key in to the universal characteristics of particular plant Families. The square stems of the Labiatae – deadnettles and mints, for example, or common features of the umbellifers (Apiaceae) or Carrot family, bridged widely separated foraging experiences. Far from struggling with a whole new suite of plants, most of the species were new to the American, but their counterparts and representatives back home were familiar. This made learning them much easier for Sean and teaching them simpler for me. The day was fascinating and instructive for both of us (look out for the video). I hope I would acquit myself half as well if I get a chance to forage in America; I came away with the greatest respect for Sean’s foraging skills and these thoughts:
- Knowledge of specific plant Latin names is essential, not just for wider communication but to understand the physical characteristics and properties of a Genus. e.g. How similar is Hogweed Heracleum sphondylium to H. lanatum, or H. kamchatkaensis?
- Understanding the broad range of representatives of a plant Family is important.
- Knowledge of characteristic Family traits is extremely useful.
- Being able to recognise an edible plant without understanding its context and wider relationships is extremely limiting and could leave you stranded.
- Learn your plants, regardless of whether you can eat them or not.
A final word on the man and his music. Sean Rowe has a fine voice and plays mean guitar.
A man in his element
He even throws atlatl well. Check out the videos of Sean in my front room in the gallery and look over the links below.
April 11, 2010
The Perils of Misidentification
Would you mistake the highly poisonous woodland plant, Dog’s Mercury (Mercurialis perennis) for the edible, semi-aquatic Brooklime (Veronica beccabunga)?
Brooklime and Dog's Mercury
In 1982, a 40 year old schoolmaster and his 39 year old wife did, with near-fatal consequences. They based their identification on a small black-and-white line illustration in the 1975 edition of Richard Mabey’s Food for Free.
In fairness to the book, the image, which in my opinion looks like Brooklime as intended, and not like Dog’s Mercury, was clearly never meant to be used for ID. There is no additional description or further detail. So why stake your life on it?
Well, enthusiasm sometimes gets the better of us. Every now and then the impatient desire to forage a free meal overrides a person’s knowledge or experience or powers of observation; the notion of a patient apprenticeship is exchanged for a steep learning curve.
Acquiring identification skills takes time and practise. If all you want to do is give something its correct name, there is no harm done if you later find out you were wrong. We all have to learn. When studying, a sound approach is to give your specimen (or perhaps a digital photo) a provisional identification that may one day be confirmed. Read the additional information in the text, and use all your senses. ID first then, perhaps eat it the following year after you have seen the plant in all stages and looked at it carefully. Training your eyes and brain to recognise subtle differences between things take time, and the keener we are sometimes the less we look. In fact, we carry preconceptions in our heads that can stop us seeing what is truly there.
Ray egg-case or bat?
This was brought home to me very strikingly recently. I had a display of Natural History items at a country event. Amongst them were several black ‘mermaid’s purses’, the egg cases of skates/rays that get washed up on the beach. Several times that day different people said to me ‘Those are bats’. Something black with vaguely hook-shaped appendages, no eyes, mouth, ears or any features at all, had defaulted to ‘bat’ in their minds and they looked no further until I pointed out their mistake.
We are probably all guilty of doing it to a greater or lesser extent but we should take special care whilst foraging. Dog’s Mercury has also been taken for Spearmint (Mentha spicata) (despite not smelling minty) and Fat Hen (Chenopodium album), amongst others. Compare the Brooklime and Dog’s Mercury in the photos. I hope they are helpful, but don’t base your breakfast on them.
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Dog's Mercury growing in a wood
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Brooklime growing in a stream in a wood
February 16, 2010
Stories in the Snow
With snowfall in this country there is often a limited window of opportunity to make the most of your tracking skills before a thaw sets in again. If you are tied to a daily job (I am lucky enough to be self-employed) you also need it to snow at the weekend! Still, it is worth persevering for a large amount of experience will come your way in a short space of time. There is more snow to come for many parts, so make the most of it.
Good snow, perfect tracking snow – settling all day to a depth of say 10cm and not freezing hard, nor melting at all at night when most creatures are active or all the next day while you are out in it – not only reveals exciting little details but also the big picture of what is about and where they go. The later in the season it falls, the more activity you are likely to encounter; the early winter lethargy of many animals will have passed and fat reserves run down, so food will take higher priority. Badgers, for instance, begin to move around more as pregnant females make space for themselves, perhaps evicting some other sows and younger boars from the sett in the process. Much seasonal activity is dictated by day length and that inexorably gets greater as we move towards spring.
The most recent snowfall (here in my part of Kent) spoke volumes. As I stepped out of my door I immediately learned that we have a Wood Mouse (or possibly the closely related Yellow-necked Mouse) or two, using our coal bunker as a thoroughfare. The curious cloven-hoof-like tracks of a mouse hopping in snow can be quite a puzzle if you have never encountered them before. In February 1855 large numbers appeared in the snows of rural Devon and were not generally understood for what they were. They caused such a stir that some folks thought they were the footprints of Satan himself and the incident was reported in The Times!
A close look, in most cases, will reveal the imprint of the tail. That said, a little while later, in the woods I found a hopping mouse trail with no tail drag. (see photos below) That trail also followed the mouse’s outward line on the return journey, making a confusion of prints that needed unpicking.
The direction of movement is indicated by the wider gap. This is made by the hindfeet landing ahead of the forefeet. A Rabbit (inset) shows something similar but greatly scaled up.
hopping mouse leaving no tail marks; what a strange beast it appears to have been
Bear in mind that two way trails are common with many mammals. A small creature like a mouse or rabbit will have a learned route that they can flee down in moments of danger without a thought or hesitation, so ingrained that they know where every obstacle is for an instant manoeuvre.(It has been shown by experiment that for a while they still jump over objects that have been removed.) Other animals follow scent trails that they have laid down, Badger and Fox, for instance, but the Fox also has excellent vision and may follow his own trail by sight.
Just to try to confuse you, a single line but the Fox both came and went this way
Here is an example of where a Fox has struck out over a rather wide open area but has stuck almost exactly to the trail it had left previously. You can see that in places the animal deviates from line slightly (probably to investigate a scent) but otherwise holds it tight. These tracks led to (and from) a spot where there had been a lot going on. I thought it may have been hunting activity but there was absolutely no sign of prey, just indications of more than one Fox. Then I realised it was play, probably between dog fox and vixen as the mating season is only just coming to an end. Aside from a patch where one animal had rolled in the snow, there was a beautiful example of a four-footed pounce, with a brush mark, something that a Fox usually does when catching mice or voles.
A typical vole-catching four-footed pounce but no sign of prey; just play
I didn’t get very far in four hours, there was so much to see. More woods and a river nearby but not the time on this occasion. Probably the most strangely beautiful sight of the day was the double imprint of a Blackbird that had inadvertently landed in deep snow and floundered, leaving the impressions of fanned wings and tail, feet and even chin and beak.
A real 3-D effect this way round (the white patch is a Fox footprint made later)