A Plant with a Story (Lots of Them!)

BY NICK WILDMAN
Shakespeare’s Juliet said it best: “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet.”

Scientists have given all species fancy Latin names to avoid confusion when people talk about plant and animals they know. Almost nobody speaks Latin any more so no matter what your native language is you’ll always be able to reference, say, a white pine (Pinus strobus), whether you’re speaking to someone from Japan, Jakarta, or Jordan.

The local or common names of plants can vary even within the same region or state. Several of the native plants in our area go by multiple names. If you hear someone mention “curly maple” they are probably talking about sugar maple (Acer saccharum). Some people prefer to call Queen Anne’s lace, “wild carrot”, which is only fair because it Latin name is Daucus carota. What my grandmother called “touch-me-not” is also known as jewelweed (Impatiens capensis). “Swallow wort” is another name for the beloved milkweed (Asclepias syriaca). Of course I’ll never forget my first autumn trip to Martha’s Vineyard when my friend pointed to a stand of black gum and said, “Look at those beautiful beetlebung!” What!?

At this time of year, I can’t help but think of the different names for the lovely juneberry that can be seen blooming in coastal areas of Dartmouth. The lovely Amelanchier arborea can be found across the eastern United Sates from Canada to Texas. In the northeast the name juneberry comes from the fact that the white blooms tend to show around the month of June. Some say the plant is commonly called the “serviceberry” because in colonial times, the blooming signaled the ground was thawed enough to bury loved ones after a hard winter.

In the Midwest, the bush is sometimes called, “Saskatoon”, which is the Cree tribe’s name for it. Saskatoon is also the name for Saskatchewan’s largest city, which hints at the expansive range of the Amelanchier.
serviceberry

But the name I like best ties the Amelanchier to another species you might not have thought much about. Folks in New England and the Mid-Atlantic region sometimes call this plant the shadbush or shadblow because its blooms often corresponded with the timing of the shad returning to the rivers to spawn. These fish (Allosa sapidissima) are a relative of the herring that we see returning to coastal river and streams in the spring. Shad are bigger than herring and, as you might imagine, stick to bigger rivers like the Taunton and Connecticut Rivers. Though their populations have dwindled terribly, shad were once a tremendously important food source. So, you can imagine that folks would connect the Amelanchier blooms with this seasonal bounty.

Environmentalists around the northeast are working to save shad by pushing for cleaner water in rivers and removing old dams that block the fish’s migrations. When we plant Amelanchier, we support dozens of bird and mammal species that rely on the berries for food. In fact, juneberries can be good food for humans, too. They are full of iron and vitamins, similar to blueberries. An easy internet search will turn up recipes for smoothies, muffins, jelly, and even wine made with juneberries.  So, consider a shadbush for that empty spot in your yard, or go out this summer looking for wild ones growing in our area.  No matter what you call it, the Amelanchier is a native shrub with a lot to love! (Come check it out In our Greer’s Garden at Helfand Farm!)