The economy, or a lack of planning, may have us in a bind for today's Valentine's Day flower giving.
If so, think local and think marshy areas.
The Badger State does have a native herb that flowers during late winter, but the problem this year is most of these plants, and their developing flowers, are under a thick blanket of snow right now.
Don't let this plant's name fool you; skunk cabbage does have some endearing qualities. It has a warm personality, otherwise how could it melt snow, ice and frozen soil?
The dilemma is that with this warmth comes a fetid odor, quite similar to the plant's common name. But to the few flying insects that might be out and about during this warm spell, warmth and smell, particularly to flies, are powerful attractants. These pollinators are being duped by associating the plant's smell with rotting flesh, which is a good place to lay their eggs.
The plant expending all this energy on giving off heat comes at the expense of doing much growing, so the flower stalk is only a few inches tall. Growth will come later.
This Wisconsin member of the Arum family, Symplocarpus foetidus, is now poking a tent-shaped spathe up through the marsh muck. Inside the spathe is a developing spadix where dozens of tiny flowers are developing. In reality, a single plant provides an entire bouquet, albeit small.
Of course the problem is getting a sweet recipient of this flower stalk to look close enough to actually see that it contains flowers.
This is Nature's way during Wisconsin winters, and while we may not appreciate the way skunk cabbage is able to flower in February, one has to admire the result.
After all, isn't that what giving flowers is all about today, the result?
-Jerry Davis holds a Ph.D. in Botany and Genetics and taught university biology and botany for 35 years at UW-La Crosse. He was born and raised on a farm near Argyle and now lives near Barneveld.
If so, think local and think marshy areas.
The Badger State does have a native herb that flowers during late winter, but the problem this year is most of these plants, and their developing flowers, are under a thick blanket of snow right now.
Don't let this plant's name fool you; skunk cabbage does have some endearing qualities. It has a warm personality, otherwise how could it melt snow, ice and frozen soil?
The dilemma is that with this warmth comes a fetid odor, quite similar to the plant's common name. But to the few flying insects that might be out and about during this warm spell, warmth and smell, particularly to flies, are powerful attractants. These pollinators are being duped by associating the plant's smell with rotting flesh, which is a good place to lay their eggs.
The plant expending all this energy on giving off heat comes at the expense of doing much growing, so the flower stalk is only a few inches tall. Growth will come later.
This Wisconsin member of the Arum family, Symplocarpus foetidus, is now poking a tent-shaped spathe up through the marsh muck. Inside the spathe is a developing spadix where dozens of tiny flowers are developing. In reality, a single plant provides an entire bouquet, albeit small.
Of course the problem is getting a sweet recipient of this flower stalk to look close enough to actually see that it contains flowers.
This is Nature's way during Wisconsin winters, and while we may not appreciate the way skunk cabbage is able to flower in February, one has to admire the result.
After all, isn't that what giving flowers is all about today, the result?
-Jerry Davis holds a Ph.D. in Botany and Genetics and taught university biology and botany for 35 years at UW-La Crosse. He was born and raised on a farm near Argyle and now lives near Barneveld.