15-04-2025
Outdoors column: Ramps have risen, spring beauties are blooming
Once there's even a hint of spring in the air, such as longer days with more sunshine or the plaintive song of the black-capped chickadee, it's time to look for ephemeral wildflowers.
In fact, by now in mid-April, if you haven't been out, you've already missed out on seeing some of the early bird ephemerals in full bloom.
Spring ephemerals refer to plants that bloom before the leaves emerge from trees and hide the sunlight from the ground.
A recent walk at a local forest preserve seemed devoid of ephemerals until we looked closer to discover blooming spring beauties, as well as a carpet of green leaves called ramps. We also found the last of the blooming skunk cabbage tucked in a swampy woods.
Ramps, sometimes called wild garlic or spring onions, have two, flat, broad green leaves about 10 inches tall, beneath which are white stalks fastened to small light-colored bulbs under the soil.
The odd name for this plant comes from an English onion-like plant called the ransom. Ramps growing in the wild in Europe and those growing wild in the United States are not the same species. But they are in the genus Allium, which includes many odiferous species including onions, leeks and garlic. Kneeling down next to some ramps, I noted a faint garlic smell. It was an odor noticed by Native Americans centuries ago. The city of Chicago was named after a large grouping of ramps seen growing near Lake Michigan in the 17th century. The plant was called chicagou by Native Americans.
Ramps are among the first groupings of greenery I notice in early spring in the woods, but they don't flower until June, when they appear as snowball-like flower clusters resting upon a leafless stalk.
Ramps are edible, but they cannot be picked at a forest preserve, and in fact they are endangered in Canada due to over-harvesting. Ramps are sometimes available at local markets that open early in the season, for example the Green City Market in Chicago.
Occasionally in and among the ramps, we noticed low-lying, delicate, grass-like leaves and small whitish flowers with five white petals painted with dark pink veins. These were spring beauties reaching fewer than 12 inches above ground when flowering. They were nestled in fallen, dead oak leaves. This welcome addition to the forest floor in April grows from an underground tuber or corm, which looks like a very small potato. Native Americans gathered the tubers, cooked and ate them.
Look closely at the spring beauties and you might see tiny bees seeking nectar and inadvertently transferring pollen to help the species thrive. A bee called a spring beauty miner specializes in pollinating this delicate bloom. The miner bee lives alone, nesting in the ground. Once the spring beauties stop blooming, sometime in May, the bee's life cycle is complete and it can no longer be found in the wild until next spring. This connection is an example of how native bees evolved with native plants, and if you want to see the plant being visited by bees, now is the time to look.
Closer examination of the forest floor also produced looks at the tiny blooms of bloodroot as well as the emerging leaves of ephemerals soon to bloom, including trout lily.
It's getting almost too late to see the flowers of the very early blooming skunk cabbage. They're not showy and they're difficult to see, but I was determined to find them this year.
This early bloomer starts out as a thick, rubber-like 4-6-inch tall spathe of varying colors such as yellow, red and green. Inside the spathe is a 2-inch-long spadix upon which miniature button-like yellow flowers reside. After blooming, the spathe deteriorates leaving behind cabbage-like leaves that grow all summer. We found some small leaves that day, and then a spathe in which flowers were blooming. Like ramps, skunk cabbage emits an odor, although this one is much more foul-smelling to attract insects. Skunk cabbage can produce its own heat even with the ground is still frozen so that the flowers will bloom.
As spring progresses, we will be seeking large stands of blooming trillium, wild geranium and Jack-in-the-pulpit. Watching the earlier ephemerals foreshadows more beauty to unfold in the next several weeks.
Sheryl DeVore has worked as a full-time and freelance reporter, editor and photographer for the Chicago Tribune and its subsidiaries. She's the author of several books on nature and the environment. Send story ideas and thoughts to sheryldevorewriter@
