Time to play ‘guess the odd one out’ of the above photos, taken along the same 10 metres of roadside verge……(clue: you can move the cursor over the images). The answer? They’re all from the family Leguminosae with the characteristic upright standard petal at the back, and a ‘keel’ projecting forward, like garden peas and beans. But the odd one out is the first one, Psoralea bituminosa, a plant which looks like clover or lucerne but isn’t. The other two are the same species, Medicago sativa or lucerne (often called alfalfa in the UK), though the yellow flower is a subspecies (falcata). I had to do some close looking and reading to be sure – more disambiguation! I’ll explain.
Psoralea bituminosa has a leaf divided into three, like the others, but the leaflets are elongated, and the flower stalks much longer than for the Medicago. It is supposed to smell of tar, due to glands on the leaf which appear as bright points against the light – I couldn’t see these or smell the tar, hence my hesitation in identifying it. Maybe we have a different variety here, maybe the smell develops later.
The lucerne was easier to identify in the end, because we’ve seen whole fields of it lately, and the plants I saw were escapees from an earlier planting, now naturalised. The flowers are very variable in colour, from deep purple through to light blue, and often have the yellow plants mixed in since the seeds sown for lucerne crops are themselves mixed, and the two varieties interbreed. In fact the yellow is probably nearer to the parent stock, first cultivated in the near East (Iran and Turkey) over 2000 years ago, but grown in Europe since the 4th century CE.
A plant with three names: Medicago and sometimes Medick in English because early Roman writers attributed the plant to the nation of the Medes, in present-day Iran. Alfalfa because the Spanish took the plant and its name alfalfez (from the Arabic al -fisfisa) to South America, and North American settlers took the seeds and name from there, especially from Chile. And to me the most interesting name of all is lucerne: not, as I thought, related to a Swiss town, but coming from the Provencal or Occitan word la lusèrna, meaning meaning a little light, or glow-worm. In fact I think the latter is more likely because the seeds are not only shiny but coiled like a worm.
Lucerne is an amazing plant. Its roots can be up to 15 metres long, and go up to 2 metres deep, giving it great drought-resistance. It flowers in July when other flowers are fading and so is very important for bees. It fixes atmospheric nitrogen like many legumes, so does well on poor soils. It can be cut up to 12 times a year and regrows from its extensive roots – that’s why it does so well on roadside verges which are cut back. It is the most widely grown forage crop in the world. It produces an autotoxin – a chemical which inhibits the germination of rival plants. I could go on, but you have Google and wikipedia just like I do, and it’s time for music.
This is Dinah Washington’s version of the Bessie Smith classic, Back Water Blues. A more rootsy blues for a rootsy blue flower.
9 responses to “The Blues: Medicago sativa – lucerne (alfalfa)”
Love your ability to connect the wildflowers and the jazz makers. Her backup band sounds VERY New Orleans.
Apparently the band for this LP was led by Eddie Chamblee – Dinah’s fifth (yes, fifth) husband, and the arrangements have come in for some criticism, partly because some have sensed a pastiche of early New Orleans and other styles. The full band list and other info is at: http://www.vervemusicgroup.com/artist/music/detail.aspx?pid=9970&aid=2851. Some of the tracks are a bit hokum, others are superb, and Dinah’s voice is a force of nature throughout.
I come here for the botany lessons. I stay for the music. And I’ve yet to leave disappointed. Thanks for another day brightener.
I’m glad the mix is working – not that I won’t play around with it. Maybe I should add a third topic – like skateboarding, say (not serious – I know nothing about it) – to broaden the appeal even further.
Fascinating reading about Lucerne, I had no idea about this plant beforehand, the deep roots, the cutting back all make it a remarkable plant!
i didn’t actually make it to the end of the article – perhaps my attention span, perhaps my hierarchy of needs, perhaps a sensible decision – but there is this wonderful line . . .
Simple economics: People who want to play jazz actually outnumber those who enjoy or even tolerate it, let alone pay to hear it.
I’ll have a look at the article – it’s a site I use a lot. I thought that’s what they said about poetry, now it’s jazz – but that phrase is just not true for me, or for many people here, where jazz (and flamenco) will always draw a paying crowd. The growth of festivals too seems to disprove it. Mind you, I find the visual arts in France at a terribly low level – there sure are more ‘artists’ than buyers, and the best exhibitions I’ve been to are by etrangers.
I’m impressed at how you manage to come up with these botanical facts. I’m just trying to make botanical sense of all those edible plants and come to the conclusion that botanist are a bunch of bickering so-and-sos, who can never agree on anything (a fact also confirmed to me by David Bellamy!). Enjoying the music too, also the stuff you sent me (thanks!)
Just between you and me, it’s 50% wikipedia, 40% google persistence, and 10% odd books I have around and the pleasure of searching. Yes, botanists do bicker – that’s in the nature of science. In the edible/herbal virtues of a plant the debate does seem to be fiercest and the websites less reliable, so bon courage with the finishing touches for the book! Good to hear from you.