the soap plant

We live thousands of miles from tropical rainforests, where plants and animals exist in such abundance that only a few of their names or properties are known. Yet even in the relatively simple landscapes of Northern California, I am often confused by plants. I am always grateful, therefore, for plants here that I can identify. This usually happens because I can associate them with something I think is interesting or beneficial. One such plant is a common native and is flowering right now. I learned about it as the "Soap Plant".

When I was in high school, none of us had cars or parents willing to loan them to us, so friends and I would put on our backpacks and take off into the local hills to camp on weekends in the spring. We'd walk the often wild and magnificent areas here, and camp in the meadows. We would drink from the hillside streams and I was shown how to was--take a local plant with long wide leaves, pull up its bulb, and crush and rub it in your hands to make lather. You could wash your face or even hair with it, and an it left you feeling a little strange from no contact with a human made soap product, but still clean. I've since learned it has even more useful and interesting qualities.

The Soap Plant, Chorogalum pomeridianum, is sometimes called Amole. It belongs to the lily family, Liliaceae, beside numerous other native plants, including the Trillium, the Golden Fairy Lantern, the Elegant Brodiaea, the Tiger Lily, The Common Camas, the Wild Onions and even the Yucca. As many lilies, its leaves resemble long, large blades of grass. These appear in early spring, radiating up and out from the base as much as two feet or more. The leaves are wavy, and this fact lends itself to a third common name, the "Wavy -leaved Soap Plant".

As the plant matures and the weather grows warmer and drier, its leaves begin die back. A long, thin stalk with branches emerges then from the center of the plant and this can grow as high as 10 feet. Flowers are contained in small oval buds in rows on the branches. Its flowering habits can fool an early riser into thinking there are no flowers at all on the plant. Only late in the day, or on cooler cloudy days, and only for a few hours, a row of buds will open on the stalk to reveal white, star like flowers. Several of these plants side by side create a sea of delicate white blossoms that seem to hang in the air. They close again in the evening. The next morning it will appear as if no flowers were there the day before. This flowering pattern gives the species it its Latin name, pomeridianum , literally, "opening in the afternoon".

Perhaps an even more fascinating feature of this plant is its usefulness. Native Americans used it for many things, many of which were shared with settlers and some passed along here over the years, even to my friends who taught me about its soap qualities. Unlike most soaps, it is also edible. Its young leaves when cooked are sweet. Its older leaves were used to wrap acorn meal when baking to make bread loaves. Its bulb is edible when baked, and its fibrous covering can be dried and was used as a brush and for making rope. When baked, the bulb emits a glue that was used among other things to attach feathers to arrows. The raw bulb when mashed is often noted for its ability to stun fish so that they could be gathered from small pools. It may be that this is due to a narcotic property, but it is also speculated this is due to the fact that the mash clogs fish gills. The mash does not effect frogs or other amphibians. Another interesting use for the mashed bulb is its use a salve that is claimed to relieve poison oak blisters and even rheumatism.

For all these reasons, and perhaps less obvious but equally significant for its role as a member in the complex local web of life, it is wise to be aware of this simple looking plant and help it survive in our shrinking natural landscapes. It is significant member of our history and summer landscape, and reminds us once again, with its flowers and its usefulness, to look beyond simple appearances.