The very soul of the Pacific Northwest...

There is a special place in the hearts of west coast residents for the arbutus tree (Arbutus menziesii). Its crooked demeanor, peeling limbs, and manner of taking root in rocky bluffs while reaching twisted branches to the sea . . . seem to capture the spirit of this place and provoke the creative impulse. Countless paintings, poems, and photographs, as well as books, plays, and theses have been inspired by the arbutus. "It's not just a tree” says broadcaster Ketzel Levine, one of many who wax eloquent, “it's a sentient creature with curative powers that are drawn from the very soul of the Pacific Northwest".

Arbutus is the only broadleaf evergreen tree native to Canada, and its next of kin include other cherished locals salal and huckleberry. It is particular about where it grows- rarely more than 8 km away from, or 300 m above, the sea. In Canada the arbutus is limited to extreme southwestern British Columbia but its range stretches down the Pacific coast to California, where it is called the madrone. It is claimed that one of the biggest arbutus trees alive, boasting a spread of 23.8 m, grows close by on Esquimalt Lagoon.

While gardeners may bestow them with love and attention only to lament their vulnerability to various fungal ailments, in the wild these trees prefer harsh conditions- dry rocky sites with full exposure to sun and wind are characteristic. Unfortunately humans desire these same areas for homes and businesses, and many are concerned over the arbutus tree's fate in the face of habitat loss.

Bees and hummingbirds are attracted to the clusters of fragrant white flowers, and its orange-red berries are a favourite food of songbirds, mice and deer. Though astringent, they have been eaten by First Nations People after roasting or steaming, and have been made into jellies and sweet cider, which was said to create an appetite.

Medicinal uses of arbutus have included making an infusion of the bark and leaves to treat bladder infections, stomachaches, or cramps; this was also given to horses with sore backs. Traditionally, fresh leaves were chewed to treat colds and sore throats; these days, pharmaceutical companies are churning out studies on the antibacterial properties of these same leaves. An infusion of the bark has been used to soften skin and enhance its luster. Fresh leaves were applied to burns, while dried ones were smoked as tobacco. The berries continue to be used in jewelry and decorations, and beautiful artisan crafts are created out of the hard wood, which has an impressive range of colours and textures. Many comment on the wood's superior burning- hot and slow- but such a commonplace use of this iconic tree does not sit well with most.

Not surprisingly, the arbutus has a prominent place in Pacific Northwest myths and lore. A Straights Salish story recounts how an arbutus atop Mount Newton (near Sidney) was used by survivors of the Great Flood to anchor their canoe. Another traditional belief held that it was best for people to avoid touching the tree, otherwise their luck might "peel off" like the bark. Yet another Aboriginal account holds that should the arbutus ever disappear, the planet will fly apart and be utterly destroyed.

In lieu of a recipe for this week's non-timber species (though some do make jam from a European variety of the tree), an offering from local poet Richard Olafson, from the book In Arbutus Light (Ekstasis, 1989)

In Arbutus Light- An Arbutus Triptych

O ARBUTUS!

Arbutus in autumn,
Sacred boughs wet with rain
Whose webbed roots hold
The splintered earth together,
Stone cracks open
When wooded muscles
Stretch to the sea.

Arbutus by the shore
Rise and sing tonight,
In light shining
Off the sea
Rant in silence at the water
Of the world.