First, I want to make it clear that this plant's common name is misleading. "Wild Ginger" is not related to culinary ginger, not even remotely (well, if you want to quibble, they're both plants, but I think you understand what I mean). Somebody somewhere in history got the idea that the crushed leaves of Asarum caudatum sorta smelled gingery, and tacked the name on without a thought to its inappropriate association with Zingiber officinale. Now, I could launch into a diatribe here about common names, but I'm pretty sure you've heard me rant on that subject before. What I do want to tell you is that my little patch of transplants has multiplied into a two-foot diameter patch with foliage so dense that it even threatens the pernicious buttercups which try to come up through it, and right now, it's loaded with those exquisite, mysterious, three-tailed flowers, although they're deeply hidden under the leaves. I remember the first time I found this plant in the wild. I'd been looking for it for years, but one day, I happened to be on a trail where a patch of it was above me on a steep cut. Looking up at the bottom side, as it were, I spotted the flowers. From that day on, I knew what to look for, and began seeing it in other places, places I'd walked past dozens of times without realizing I was surrounded by it. Later, I was pleased to find it in the (then) vacant lot next door. I transplanted three or four roots, and now have my own "ginger" garden. Relocating it all of fifty feet didn't bother my conscience in the slightest. Obviously, it's quite happy in its new location.
No comments:
Post a Comment