The Jack-in-the-Pulpits have made their appearance in the woods.

A search on the web tells me some other names for the plant: Parson-in-the-Pulpit, Lord-and-Lady, Cuckoopint, Aronskelk, Indian Turnip, Iroquois Breadroot, Starchwort, Memory Root, Bog Onion, American Arum, Devil’s Ear, Pepper Turnip, Dragonroot, Wake Robin, Cooter-Wampee, Plant-of-Peace, Cobra Lily.

Walking with Paula and the dogs yesterday, I took a few images of the plant, and since then have learned that the bright cluster of red berries we saw in the woods in the fall are the fruit of the “Jacks.”

There is something singularly graceful and beautiful about the Jack-in-the-Pulpits, to my eye. There’s a kind of confidence in their posture in the woods, a regal feel. And they will kill you or make you very sick if you eat a bunch of the “corm” from which the plant grows.

According to what might be a legend, “the Meskwaki Indianas ground up the corm and mixed it with meat which they left on the trails of their enemies, the Sioux. Ingestion resulted in an agonizing death in several hours.  They called the plant the ‘tcika-tape’ which literally translates as bad sick.”

Beautiful, stately plant, and it will make you sick if you have a hankering to eat a lot of it. Or any of it. No worries, here.