Skunk Cabbage and other signs of Spring

The Cottage on Monday, March 4

Spring’s arrival this year has been rather atypical. While the winter past was not particularly severe and without a truly major snowstorm, it still manifested some unusual features. With one notable exception  in very early February, there were none of those “warm spells” that are a regular feature of winter in the Northeast. Then, we had a significant snowfall (though nothing exceptional) on March 4th that was followed by a cold snap. That left the ground snow-covered until mid-March. So, when the snow finally melted, Mother Nature had a bit of catching up to do. And, as March progressed, temperatures remained seasonal at best. Finally, at the very end of the month, there were a few warm days. It seemed that perhaps Spring had arrived, at last.

Crocus

Here in Northern New Jersey, there are several sure signs of the arrival of Spring. Most will be familiar. One would be the return of the robins. This has become a less reliable predictor in recent years. With the gradual warming, the migration patterns of robins has become less consistent. Without snow cover and extreme cold, I saw a few robins on and off for most of the winter this year. They did return in large numbers just in time for the early March snow; but I must give them credit. They hung in there. Then there are the flocks of Canada geese winging their way northwards. This phenomenon began fairly punctually in mid-March and continues. Last, but not least, is the blooming of the snowbells and crocus. These hardy flowers emerged extremely late, only making their appearance here at Delbarton in the last week of the month. I have to admit, though, I love seeing the crocus. Their bright colors and perkiness almost bring a smile to my face. I also get a kick out of their tendency to “wander”, showing up in spots where they were not planted. In my opinion, you can never have enough crocus!

Skunk Cabbage habitat

Nothing, however, says Spring to me like the emergence of Symplocarpus foetidus - skunk cabbage. This plant is a flowering perennial and here at Delbarton it is truly the first thing to appear. It grows in wetlands and along streams, of which we have an abundance. The reason it appears so early is interesting. According to the Wildlife Federation website: “Skunk cabbage has a remarkable ability to produce heat that allows it to emerge and bloom even when the ground is still frozen. During the winter when temperatures are freezing, the flower buds can warm up to 70 degrees Fahrenheit, which melts the snow around the plant. Pollinated flower heads develop berry-like fruits containing seeds, which germinate into new skunk cabbages the next growing season. Skunk cabbage leaves decay rather quickly. The leaves have high water content, so there is less plant matter to dry out and decompose. A skunk cabbage loses its leaves annually, but the plant itself can live up to 20 years.” How’s that for adaption? For what it’s worth, however, even the skunk cabbage was late to appear this year.

The mysterious snathe

As the month wore on, I scanned all the usual places for any sign of that mottled maroon hood-like growth, which I learned is called a spathe. This phase of the plant’s growth has always intrigued me visually. It emerges from the earth looking like the head of a seductive cobra, the outer leaves wrapped protectively around the flower stalk. Still, nothing. At one point, I began to worry that perhaps there would be no skunk cabbage this year. It usually appears just as the moss on fallen trees begins to turn from tawny brown to green, and that was already happening. Then, on one of my walks in Jockey Hollow National Park, I espied my dilatory friend in a wetland area in the woods. My heart sang. Once again, the cycle of nature was renewing itself. Spring would indeed come.