Typha gets its genus name from the classical Latin name for the plant in Europe. While there are endemic species (of about eleven in all) native to certain areas of the world, Typha latifolia is cosmopolitan in the Northern Hemisphere, appearing in large swaths throughout the temperate zones of Europe, Asia and North America. It is a member of the Bullrush family, Typhaceae.
Cattails prefer wet feet and standing water. Found at the edges of ponds and slow-moving rivers and streams, they are not only a part of that habitat but an indicator species of it. The grass-like leaves emerge from the perennial rhizomes in mid-spring, and by the end of July, the flower stalks have shot up along with the six to eight foot leaves. The very top of the stem is where the male flowers reside, and after producing pollen, they wither and die (just like a male, huh?). The numerous female flowers make up the familiar sausage-shaped concretion (up to a foot long and about an inch-and-a-half thick) just a bit further down the stalk. When ripe, the very tiny seeds, attached to a fine hair, waft about in the wind to alight in a water-logged or very wet soil to begin a new colony. They are one of the pioneer plants that begin the process of converting open water bodies to vegetated marshland, and finally, if there is no global warming to account for higher water tables, to dryland.
They also spread by underground rhizomes, forming very dense colonies which exclude water, nutrients and light to other plants. Once you have a stand of Cat-tails, it’s hard to get rid of them, causing some to consider them a weed in managed wet-lands. They are used by other wet-land managers to hold the soil (the rhizomatous root systems are ‘bang-on’ for this) and to clean turgid water by slowing the water flow, filtering the water and catching floating and submerged debris. They are also home and food to many insects, birds and amphibians.
Remnants of the starch from Cat-tails have been found in grinding stones from Northern Europe dating to 30,000 years ago. So some of my troglodyte ancestors from the Upper Paleolithic partook of the pleasant and nutritionally salubrious effluvia of our plant. The First People’s of the Americas used it for bedding, diapers and other applications where absorbency and softness were important. It is still used by some indigenous people for stuffing pillows and mattresses, although good ticking is important. The fluff can cause skin irritation. The same fluff was also used as a tinder for starting fires and to line moccasins. The rhizomes, the young leaves in spring and the developing flower are all edible, but I don’t have any recipes. The flower stalk looks like a corn-dog, but I’m not sure it tastes the same.
The seed heads, dipped in wax, can be used as a torch or candle. It has diuretic properties, and has been used for sores, boils, wounds, burns, scabs and inflammation. As I have often said in the column, please take any suggestions for the ingestion of any plant in these articles as historical and cultural information, not as prescription for ‘what ails ye.’ Consult your doctor, holistic healer or witch-doctor before attempting any herbal cures at home.
26 авг 2024
