For homeowners, planting edible native species is a great way to benefit the environment and put nutritious food on the table. Yet Great Lakes Radio Consortium commentator Tom Springer says it’s also important to enjoy the wild bounty that’s already around you:
Transcript
For homeowners, planting edible native species is a great way to benefit the environment
and put nutritious food on the table. Yet Great Lakes Radio Consortium commentator
Tom Springer says it’s also important to enjoy the wild bounty that’s already around you.
If you were old enough to read during the 1970s, you may recall a silver-haired pop icon
named Euell Gibbons. Mr. Gibbons was an author and wild food forager who wrote a
best-selling book titled Stalking the Wild Asparagus. He even starred in a popular TV ad
for Grape-Nuts cereal. “Their taste reminds me of wild hickory nuts,” Mr. Gibbons used
to say.
I’ve lived in towns most of my life, but I never forgot about Euell Gibbons. The idea of
eating food that most people find unfit for human consumption has always intrigued me.
So five years ago, when my wife and I bought an old farmhouse on four acres, it was time
to rekindle my fantasy. However, instead of being a forager, I decided to save on shoe
leather by growing wild edibles in our big backyard.
Until recently, most of our property was worn out Michigan farmland. My mission has
been to restore the native species that thrived here before titanium-strength herbicides and
three hundred thousand-dollar tractors came along. I’ve planted hazelnuts, beechnuts,
butternuts and chestnut saplings, along with raspberries, gooseberries, serviceberries,
wild plums and apple trees.
While most of my trees and shrubs have survived, their growth rate has been glacially
slow. During this year’s meager harvest, I picked three quarts of raspberries; four cups of
gooseberries; two dozen serviceberries; three apples no bigger than a tennis ball (the
largest of which was smaller than a tennis ball); and, a single, lonely chestnut. As I told
my wife, “Perhaps that’s why they call it a chestnut tree.”
But despite the skimpy yields, there have been some positive consequences. By
inspecting my plants and studying guidebooks, I’ve learned to identify numerous edible
species. I’ve also made a startling and humbling discovery: Namely that many of the wild
plants I’m trying to establish already grow wild nearby.
Last fall, we made cookies from hickory nuts that were gathered from a tree near our
driveway. This summer, I found a blackberry thicket growing by a creek just a ΒΌ mile
away. They were past their peak when I found them, but we still picked enough for a
juicy, blackberry pie.
Then last spring, along a farm fence one hundred yards from home, I noticed a small tree
awash in a blizzard of pink blossoms. I knew it was an American plum from the photo in
my guidebook. By late summer, clusters of rosy pink fruit hung from its upper branches.
For two weeks, I feasted on wild plums whenever I walked the dog in that direction.
I’ve also found a dozen elderberry bushes, and notably, a hazelnut bush that’s the size of
our Ford sedan. When the hazelnuts turn ripe, you can bet I’ll be back to pick a bucketful.
Meanwhile, back at the mini-ranch, I’m getting ready for fall. I’m wrapping fragile tree
trunks to protect them from deer and mice. I’m pruning dead shoots and adding new
layers of mulch. But I’m also resting easier. All around me, I’ve found wild plants that
neither toil nor spin, yet are healthy and productive just the same. As I work to create my
personal paradise, it’s good to know that the original creation is still within arm’s reach.