Fireweed: A Cool Glass of Hope on a Hillside of Beauty
By Karen Blackwood
It’s time for Field Notes, brought to you by the Montana Natural History Center.
Last summer, the mountains east of my home in the Bitterroot Valley erupted in fire. Several small fires crept along the ridges, merging into one. Without potential threat to any man-made structures, it burned until it was extinguished by the rain and snow of fall.
For some, the sad sight of the charred black scar from this wildfire will be eased by the anticipation of an eventual hunt for morel mushrooms. For me, I am looking forward to the fireweed.
Fireweed and I first met when a friend shared her homemade fermented fireweed iced tea. Looking at the dark-colored liquid I expected a bitter sun-brewed tea made with tea bags. Instead, this delightful beverage was cool and refreshing and greeted my tastebuds with sweet, fragrant florals and perhaps a hint of pineapple. That afternoon, I discovered that iced fireweed tea is an enchanting symphony of flavors that can only come from Mother Nature’s kitchen.
Beauty is present everywhere in nature, but digging into the research to discover the function of a species is what drives my connection. I want to know how a plant or animal uses its unique gifts to enhance its external relationships and contribute to its surrounding environment. Besides its gift to me in the form of a beverage, how does fireweed serve its ecosystem?
Fireweed (Chamaenerion angustifolium), a member of the evening primrose family, is native to most of North America. Following a fire or other disturbance to the ground, fireweed rhizomes, living quietly a few inches under the soil, sense the open sky and available sunlight and begin to sprout. Rising like a phoenix from the ashes, it will soon cover the barren ground, protecting and preparing for the succession of new growth.
The first shoots produce slim, arrow-shaped leaves. Reaching heights of three to five feet, fireweed begins blooming in late June, continuing through the end of summer. The flowers attach at the top of the stem with a needle-shaped seed pod and circle upward to form a cone. The bright magenta blooms open from the bottom up, in a multi-layered artistic production. Each flower has four round rose-pink petals that provide a backdrop for the next layer of deeper magenta petals positioned to highlight the seams, while eight white nimble soloists topped with a small hat dance around a tall, pink pillar projecting from the middle. The combination is a twirling display of shape and color.
Fireweed’s vibrant flowers provide sweet nectar to native bees, flies, butterflies, and even honeybees, if their hive is nearby. The Montana native yellowhead bumblebee is a frequent guest, reciprocating her visit with free pollination services amongst the blooms.
With the pollinator’s job complete and the flowers fertilized, the blooms fade and the two-to-three-inch-long narrow seed pods now ripen, bursting open to release over 80,000 small seeds per plant, each with a tuft of fluff to carry them on their way.
Indigenous tribes discovered the functions of fireweed and used it, fluff and all, for cordage, weaving, padding, and medicinal purposes. Fireweed leaves contain a substance that is good for the digestive, immune, and respiratory systems and can give relief for boils and other skin maladies. It is high in fiber and vitamins that help maintain a healthy gut.
Fireweed also helps maintain healthy landscapes, working to restore the ecosystem altered by fire. The roots balance the microbes in the soil and provide structure to protect against erosion. Fireweed spreads rapidly and covers the ground, warding off invasives, holding space for the succession of grasses, forbs, and trees that will re-create what was once there. When the trees have grown and the sunlight is diminished by their canopy, fireweed will retreat underground, resting and waiting for its next call to duty.
This dive into fireweed taught me that functionality and contributions to the environment are essential for survival, but, going full circle, so is beauty. The bright magenta flowers against blackened soil and the glass of fireweed iced tea on a warm summer day replenish my system and, more importantly, add the beauty necessary for my soul.
Today’s Field Note was written in the Field Notes Writing Workshop at the Montana Natural History Center. This is Karen Blackwood for Field Notes, brought to you by the Montana Natural History Center, providing natural history education for schools and the public throughout Montana. To find out about upcoming events and programs at the Center, call 406.327.0405, or visit our website at MontanaNaturalist.org.
