An integrative approach to healing ourselves and our world: honoring people, plants, planet

Archive for the ‘Phytoremediation’ Category

Yellowroot a favorite folk remedy for ulcers

Yellowroot (Xanthorhiza simplicissima) in on the West Fork of the Chattooga River in Rabun County, Georgia.

In the most urban areas of Athens, one is unlikely to find a plant which once predominated along creeks. Soil disturbance and invasive plants have made yellowroot’s original home inhospitable. If you find a shaded or semi-shaded stream that isn’t covered in invasive plants, such as on the Orange Trail at the State Botanical Garden or on private lands, you’ll likely see yellowroot performing its ecological, streamside vegetation function of maintaining the integrity of a streambank, preventing erosion.

Yellowroot (Xanthorhiza simplicissima) is an eastern North American, native perennial shrub growing in thick mats with its long, thin root horizontally holding fast to the soil on the edge of the streambank. There is very little demarcation of where the root ends and the stem begins. Greyish, bark-covered stems stand between one-three feet, bare of foliage until a spray of attractive, bright green leaves erupt at the top. The foliage consists of deeply serrated, pinnately or bipinnately compound leaves, meaning several leaflets grow on one leaf stalk, or leaflets grow on smaller stems within a larger pinnately compound leaf.

In April and May, yellowroot’s inconspicuous, yet charming, clusters of brownish-purple flowers bloom, often dangling from under the leaves. As they become fruits, the clusters turn greenish-yellow.

Among the Appalachian and Piedmont area of the South, yellowroot is held in high esteem as a premier tonic herb for healing stomach complaints, such as ulcers, and canker sores.

Old-timey herbalist Tommie Bass provided yellowroot to many people for stomach ulcers with positive results. According to herbalist Darryl Patton’s book with Tommie Bass, the FDA instructed Mr. Bass to stop claiming yellowroot would cure stomach ulcers.

A mechanism behind yellowroot’s success with ulcers is due to an antibacterial, bitter alkaloid constituent called berberine, which is also found in other herbs of the Ranunculaceae family, goldenseal and coptis root. Research confirming a bacterial component to ulcers, from the Heliobacter pylori, gave insight into how yellowroot has traditionally healed ulcers for hundreds of years.

Other medicinal uses for yellowroot include cleansing the liver and gallbladder. Herbal medicines of a yellow nature are often used for liver complaints, which is either coincidental, or it’s an illustration of the Doctrine of Signatures at work: a theory that plants have features indicating what their use is for humans. The yellow color is associated with jaundice.

Yellowroot trying to do its job holding up the streambank. Yellowroot is important for erosion control, which makes me consider it the symbol for integrity. US economic banks could use a little yellowroot, don't you think?

Catawba Indians used yellowroot for jaundice, stomach complaints and as a cold remedy, and Cherokee would drink its tea as a tonic for the blood and nerves, or just simply chew the bitter stem for mouth sores.

Around Georgia, rural roadside stands, country stores and the DeKalb Farmer’s Market are the only places where I have found harvested yellowroot available. In these markets, yellowroot comes either pre-brewed as a yellow tea, or as a bundle of one-inch twigs, which can then be boiled in water at home.

To make a tea of the roots, boil a cup of roots in 24 ounces of water for 20 minutes. Strain and either drink a cup of tea, or gargle with it. Alcohol extract tinctures are also very effective.

This article was originally published in the Athens Banner-Herald on Sunday, May 29th, 2011.

Yellow dock is a survival plant

Yellow dock (Rumex crispus) going to seed in a yard on Milledge Avenue in Athens, GA.

As a perennial herb offering food and medicine, yellow dock is a plant to know, especially during hard times. Native American tribes have considered yellow dock a panacea and survival food.

Yellow dock (Rumex crispus), also known as curly dock due to the wavy edges of its long, narrow leaves, is an introduced plant from Northern Africa, Europe and Asia. It’s currently found all over North and South America, and has become a staple in traditional American herbal medicine practices.

To recognize yellow dock from late spring and throughout summer, look for the tall seed stalks ranging from greenish-pink to dark rust as they dry along roadsides, in pastures, and wherever else the ground is compacted. As a member of the buckwheat family (Polygonaceae), the seeds can be ground and added to ground cornmeal for porridge, also known as mush, or it can be added to a base of ground maize and herbs to make pinole – a Mexican and Central American food or beverage, depending on the preparation.

Yellow dock’s long, slightly-yellow taproot breaks up the hard clay soil, and is very difficult to remove from the ground. People who cultivate yellow dock for the commercial herbal trade have deep pits of loose soil so the taproot grows particularly long and straight, and is much easier to remove.

A primary action for yellow dock root is to heal digestive complaints. Having both astringent tannins and laxative anthraquinone glycosides, specifically emodin and chrysophanin, yellow dock can dose-dependently act as an astringent for diarrhea, or as a gentle laxative, also known as an aperient. Smaller doses are used in loose stool patterns, while larger doses, containing a higher quantity of anthraquinones, are indicated in constipation.

A specific indication for yellow dock is when someone has an elongated, deep-red tongue which narrows into a point. The tongue indicates constriction and heat in the bowels. Yellow dock can be taken in low doses over an extended time as a tonic herb for low-grade gut inflammation, particularly associated with gastrointestinal imbalances, sometimes called leaky gut.

As a mildly bitter herb, it stimulates the actions of the liver, which gives yellow dock its other traditional use as an alterative – called a blood purifier by old timers and Native Americans – which is a cleansing agent for toxicity often manifesting as itchy skin, known as pruritis, or as eczema, psoriasis, acne or joint inflammation.

A decoction of yellow dock root can be taken internally, made into a salve, or used as a wash. For athlete’s foot, yellow dock root decoction – the root is boiled for 20 minutes – is used as a foot soak.

Yellow dock root is often provided with iron supplementation for women because it is thought to increase iron assimilation.

Throughout Southern winters and into early spring, yellow dock leaves are an excellent sour-tasting wild green to add to salads, stews, or cooked like spinach. When eating them raw, the younger the leaf the better. The stems can be peeled and eaten raw or roasted.

Yellow dock leaves do contain some oxalates, as does spinach, so if you’re prone to kidney stones, refrain from yellow dock leaves. Though a mild plant, yellow dock is contraindicated in pregnancy due to its laxative effect, and cautioned with young children, as in during lactation.

This article originally appeared in Athens Banner-Herald on Sunday, June 5th, 2011.

Sweetgum used to treat hypertension

In my assessment, the most undervalued native tree is the sweetgum. Due to its abundance – and to the sweetgum’s fruits, which look like miniature, medieval torture devices that litter the ground and clog lawnmowers – the sweetgum is condemned by many as a trash tree. Others might have a NIMBY response to sweetgums: they appreciate them along the highway, just not in their backyards.

Star-shaped sweetgum leaves turn a rainbow of colors in the fall, indicating its complex chemistry. Liquidambar, or sweetgum, is one of the sacred sources of Mayan copal resin.

A few features about sweetgums, though, point to this tree being more interesting than current conventional wisdom perceives.

During the fall, few trees offer the spectacular multi-hued, rainbow of color seen in the sweetgum’s star-shaped leaves. From shiny green, to yellow, to red, to deep eggplant-purple, sweetgum’s color spectrum appears to be indicative of its complex chemistry.

Within both common and botanical names of the sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua), we can gather that the tree offers a liquid, resinous, sweet-tasting gum. In the old days, the balsamic resin was called American styrax, or storax, and used as a natural chewing gum. The balsam resin is harvested by making a gash inside the inner bark so the liquid can ooze out. The balsam resin is medicinal, and further processing can produce tinctures and gums that also are medicinal.

Traditionally Native Americans used the resin and inner bark as an aid for wounds, sore throats, coughs and in treating infectious diarrhea. Chemical analysis has found astringent tannins and antimicrobial, anti-inflammatory compounds in sweetgum, which make it effective in treating skin and mucosal infections. The leaves also contain many of the medicinally active compounds.

Ethnobotanical research by the Foundation for Latin American Anthropological Research documents Liquidambar styraciflua, or arbol de estoraque, as one of the sacred sources of copal resin used for incense and burned during religious ceremonies. South Carolina Civil War surgeon and botanist writes that sweetgum incense was used in Mexico as an “excitant of the mucous system” and antimicrobial for infections of lungs, intestines and urinary tract.

Sweetgum balls look like miniature medieval torture devices.

Archeological research of pre-Columbian Aztecs discovered evidence of a large trade of Liquidambar for incense. “Trash tree” is clearly a perception.

Another traditional use by Cherokee Indians was to make a tea infusion of the inner bark as a sedative to calm the nerves.

Recent pharmaceutical research found that an alcohol extract of sweetgum reduced angiotensin II signaling, thereby reducing hypertension. The researchers isolated chemical constituents, benzyl benzoate and benzyl cinnamate, and discovered they served as antagonists for angiotensin II-induced hypertension. Will this trash tree be revalued as a native treasure?

Although sweetgums are prolific and long-lived, they are sensitive to urban sprawl and drought. According to a North Carolina State University study of sweetgums growing in the mid-Atlantic region of the United States, foliage is damaged from phytotoxic levels of troposheric ozone. We might regret that we didn’t appreciate the sweetgums while they were common.

In the Athens area, a walk around Memorial Park Lake offers a chance to take in the sweetgum’s beauty.

This article was originally published in the Urban Forager Column of the Athens Banner-Herald, Sunday, October 31, 2010.

Native vs. Exotic isn’t a simple argument of Good vs. Bad

Kudzu blooming in Athens, GA

When one walks among a forest of native plants, plants who have lived together for hundreds or thousands of years, there is an obvious feeling of harmony that is different from what one feels when walking among a forest covered with honeysuckle, kudzu, multiflora rose, Japanese knotweed and privet. In the forest of ancient harmony, it appears plants are each given their respectful place of existence, room to grow and breed unimpeded by aggressive competition from other plant species. The healthy balance of this forest isn’t based on the behavior of what is above, but actually, the health depends on what lies below the surface: the relatively undisturbed soil and hidden mycelium of the forest Fungi Kingdom.

The Fungi Kingdom is perhaps the oldest group of living species, which made the earth inhabitable for plants. Fungi consist of the visible fruiting bodies called mushrooms, and the threadlike mycelium network underground and throughout decomposing matter, such as fallen trees. According to mycologist Paul Stamets, roughly eight miles of mycelium is living in one cubic inch of ground. Stamets also describes underground mycelium’s neurological network like the Internet, constantly giving and receiving information. Mycelium know when we are treading on them.

Fungi, unlike plants, contain no chlorophyll, though they do use radiation-as plants use light-to convert elements into food, and their byproducts during this conversion are what makes soil by which plants can live. Rotting mushrooms feed microbes, which in turn feed the forest. The relationship of symbiosis is very important when it comes to the Fungi and the Plant Kingdom. Many native plants depend on particular mycelium species in the soil in order to live, making them difficult to transplant or propagate, and thus threatening their population status.

The symbiotic relationship makes plants sensitive to habitat destruction from farming or prior farming and development-roads, subdivisions, strip-malls, cities. Once the soil habitat for particular mycelium is disturbed, the native plants living in the symbiotic relationship will struggle to live. Plants who are not sensitive to particular mycelium species, and perhaps attracted to nitrogen-depleted soil are opportunistic, and easily become invasive when the healthy balance is disturbed.

Other opportunistic species are viruses and microbes. In our gut is approximately three-five pounds of bacteria, which provide a foundation for our immune system. A disturbance in the friendly bacterium’s habitat can allow opportunistic pathogens to thrive. As Louis Pasteur, father of the germ theory, exclaimed in epiphany, “It’s the milieu!” Germs, microbes, pathogens take advantage of a weakness in the environmental system and proliferate. This is a similar pattern of behavior in invasive plants.

When we see invasive plants, we are seeing a symptom of ecological disturbance, not the cause of ecological disturbance. The total ecology, or relationship of organisms and elements, is far-far-far more complex than people understand. It is not as simple as pulling out privet and planting native species, as if that would perpetually remain a native-only plant place.

To rid the area, no matter how small or large, of invasive plants would require toxic herbicides, causing further ecological distress, or an introduction of a predatory species– which I assert is always a short-sighted and regretful idea–and constant vigilance in tending the “natural” native garden. Birds, animal fur, clothing and wind will continue to disperse seeds, making the maintenance of a native-only plant place a constant, resource-draining effort. And underlying the whole attempt, literally, for the survival of the native plants is the necessary re-establishment of the symbiotic mycelium.

A cost-benefit analysis would help here. We need to recognize some of the phytoremediation benefits of non-native, invasive species, such as with mimosa as a nitrogen-fixer, or purslane as an absorber of PCBs, or lamb’s quarters as a re-vegetation plant for mining sites and absorber of organophosphates. Furthermore, once invasives become the predominant species, they are performing the ecological benefits of erosion control, holding up our creek banks, and converting CO2 from our atmosphere into oxygen.

My Athens Banner-Herald column has received some criticism when I write of the virtues of an exotic, or a non-native, invasive species, for instance, with mimosa and purslane. One of my graduate school teachers, the eminent Dr. Jim Duke, retired from the USDA, and author of nearly 100 books on medicinal, economic and agricultural plants, as well as ethnobotany, and who developed and maintains the valued Phytochemical and Ethnobotanical Database, definitely doesn’t think that the U.S. should plant more kudzu, but he does recommend that we utilize the kudzu for biodiesel, food, phytoestrogen isoflavones-important for women during menopause, and as a medicinal aid for alcoholism. We should not pollute our water through the massive, and expensive, application of herbicides, trying to eradicate kudzu, or introduce a pest which has unintended consequences.

We need to utilize the plants growing abundantly around us, and to do that, we need to know what their benefits are. Through the gained knowledge from research of invasive species, we can learn how they are medicinal substitutes for threatened native medicinal plants, for example Japanese barberry (Berberis thunbergii) is a medicinal substitute for the threatened goldenseal (Hydrastis canadensis). To me that sounds like sustainable practices of plant harvesting, and sustainable stewardship.

Finally, the term “native” is quite arbitrary. Humans have been trading plants since we were able. Plants provide life-saving medicine, and have inspired seed swaps and spurred the global marketplace; the need for healing bridged the divide of differences. For example, in the 8-9th century, Emperor Charlemagne developed relations with Arab Muslims, who were more medically advanced than the Roman Empire, and instructed his officers to collect medicinal plants to bring back to Christian monasteries where they were grown in physic healing gardens. Comfrey (Symphytum officinale) is one of those plants. In fact, it’s a custom in the old world of the Middle East to travel with a plant. Furthermore, if one looks specifically at the pre-Columbian history of America, one will see the trade of plants from east to west, north to south. Some of these plants naturalize in their new environment, essentially “going native”, and can become included in human botanical texts of native species.

Almost all plants are designed to disperse their seeds or spores through various mechanisms. It’s the compensation for being rooted to a place, the way to travel and increase one’s progeny. In untended circumstances where the human is not the gardener, the seed grows where it can.

Within a paradigm of a whole webbed universe, as in Cherokee stories, it might be said that the seed goes where it is called. For instance, poison ivy, a North American native, could be considered “invasive” today because it isn’t a desirable plant to most humans, and, being spread by birds who eat the berries, it shows up all over the eastern U.S. In Cherokee stories of natural history, there are 7 tribes of plants. One of those tribes is the warrior tribe who protects other vulnerable plant tribes from animal predators, or helps restore an area from disturbance. Poison ivy is the chief of the warrior tribe. Blackberries and smilax are also native American plants in the warrior tribe. In this perspective, poison ivy is doing its job, trying to keep humans away from more vulnerable plants, or helping a disturbed area to heal, which is why it’s so prolific in the eastern United States. Next time you see poison ivy growing, notice where you are. What disturbances have taken place? What plants might the ivy be protecting from you?

Pay attention to the plants that begin to reclaim an area that’s been developed. My mind goes to the old houses on secondary roads covered in kudzu, or the weeds coming up through the sidewalk cracks. These are called invasive, but they also demonstrate how awesome is nature’s power of reclamation and, hopefully, restoration.

To learn more about the importance of mycelium, watch Paul Stamets at the 2008 TED Conference on the vodpod video in the right sidebar.

To learn more about Dr. Jim Duke’s solutions for kudzu, visit his Green Pharmacy website.

Lamb’s quarters is a nutritious wild veggie

Chenopodium album, lamb's quarters, white goosefoot, fat hen

Depending on one’s perspective, when lamb’s quarters volunteers itself in your yard, garden or field, it’s either a welcome wild vegetable or an unwelcome weed. Scientific research takes one side or the other: either it is a promising plant for world food security and an excellent way to clean up toxically contaminated sites, or it’s a weed for which people develop new herbicides to eradicate.

Lamb’s quarters (Chenopodium album), also called white goosefoot and fat hen, is an introduced Eurasian species found in most of North America, and is related to the Andean quinoa grain (C. quinoa). Its upper diamond-shaped leaves look as though they’ve been dusted with white powder, and the stem of the more mature plant is vertically striped yellow, green and fuchsia. This annual prefers sunny, moist, cultivated soils; however, it can also grow through gravel, demonstrating its tolerance for difficult, abusive situations.

Being a culinary vegetable staple in Old World cuisine, lamb’s quarters was introduced early in the colonization of North America. It spread throughout the continent and was quickly adopted into the diets of many Indian Nations, including the Iroquois, Cherokee, Navajo, and Eskimo. In ethnobotanical accounts, many nations ate the young shoots of lamb’s quarters boiled, and then cooked with grease. Cherokee ate raw greens as a salad for good nutrition. Shoots and seeds were dried for winter food storage. The seeds have been ground into flour for bread and made into porridge.

Medicinally, in addition to being a nutritious vegetable, the Navajo used lamb’s quarters as a topical poultice dressing for burns, and more unusually would make snake figurines out of the young shoots to use as antidotes for snakebites. Recently, lamb’s quarters has been found to prevent the proliferation of two strains of breast cancer cells.

Researchers in South Africa have looked at the nutritive quality of lamb’s quarters and its potential for providing food security. They found lamb’s quarters to be as high in minerals as spinach, lettuce and cabbage, and a good source of micronutrients, such as cancer-protecting flavonoids and polyphenols. As a vegetable cooked like spinach with butter or olive oil, lamb’s quarters has a pleasant taste which pairs well with many types of meats or beans. When cooked with beans, lamb’s quarters shows its hidden carminative benefit, neutralizing the undesirable, gaseous effects of bean dishes.

Ecologically, lamb’s quarters provides an economically and environmentally beneficial answer to wastewater contamination from agricultural fields. Studies show that lamb’s quarters growing in agricultural ditches absorbs organophosphates and pyrethroid (permethrin) pesticide runoff, and polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs), all very toxic compounds capable of disrupting human hormones. Lamb’s quarters also holds promise in the re-vegetation of mining sites.

Which perspective of lamb’s quarters will you have when you see it growing into your life?

If you need more persuasion, you can sample it from Athens locals who are choosing its benefits by selling it at the farmers markets. Athenians can also find lamb’s quarters growing along roadsides and the North Oconee River Greenway.

If you find and harvest lamb’s quarters, keep in mind that it’s an annual. If you don’t leave some to go to seed, it will cut down on the chances of having lamb’s quarters around the following year.

Cut the stem above the last “good leaf”, above any yellowed leaves. If you don’t use lamb’s quarters right away, you can wrap them loosely in newspaper and place in a plastic bag. That will keep the lamb’s quarters fresh in the fridge for a week or even two. Lamb’s quarters can be dried or frozen for future use, as well.

When you’re ready to cook lamb’s quarters, you’ve got as many options as you do with other greens. Strip the leaves from the tougher, lower, stems. The tops are tender enough that you can cook and eat the stems if you like. You can chop the leaves further, or leave them whole. I add a cup of water to a stock pot, and place on low-medium. Add the lamb’s quarters, some green onion, and a splash of vinegar. Put a lid on the pot, and stir occasionally. Cook for about 8 minutes. The greens get slightly steamed and boiled. If you choose, you can sautee garlic and onions in butter on the side and combine it with the cooked greens before serving.

Lamb’s quarters can be cooked into soups and casseroles, quiche, or a greens pie.

This article was published in the Athens Banner-Herald, July 11, 2010.

Get your vitamins and omega-3s with purslane

Purslane growing in Hull St. "vegetable garden". Loaded in omega-3s, purslane (Portulaca oleracea) is the eigth most widespread plant in the world.

You may never have been formally introduced to this little plant, but by the time you finish reading, you’ll be glad to know this wild superfood, which is actually the eighth most widespread plant in the world.

Purslane /Portulaca oleracea/ is a succulent annual that crawls along compacted soil. Its thick and fleshy leaves grow from a reddish stem, and its teeny, yellow flowers bloom only in daylight. Purslane is highly heat and drought-tolerant, perfect for cultivating in an Athens edible landscape. Between Trapeze Pub and Casa Mia on Hull Street, a unique vegetable garden grows. Where other vegetables are wilting from the heat and lack of watering, purslane is thriving.

Notice the reddish stem of the succulent purslane.

Ancient cultures worldwide have relied on purslane as a green leafy powerhouse vegetable par excellence. Though the weed may not be native, non-agricultural people of the Pacific Northwest foraged for purslane prior to European contact, proving that puslane has been in North America for quite some time. Among the Greeks, Cretans and Turks in the Mediterranean, purslane is a favorite wild vegetable to collect.

If stranded in a remote area, you would be fine if purslane were growing nearby. In fact, you’d probably be a lot healthier. Studies show that purslane’s nutritive value of vitamins, minerals, fiber and antioxidants is superior to cultivated foods. According to the USDA and Dr. Artemis Simopoulos, president of The Center for Genetics, Nutrition and Health in Washington, DC, “Purslane is the richest vegetable source of omega-3 fatty acids.” Within this little weed is the omega-3s in the form of alpha-linolenic acid (ALA) and antioxidants, such as phenolic compounds, alpha-tocopherol (a vitamin E), ascorbic acid (vitamin C), beta-carotene (precursor to vitamin A) and glutathione (a compound which metabolizes toxins in the small intestines and prevents their transport to other tissues in the body).

Purslane’s yield of omega-3 ALAs far surpasses any other non-aquatic source, that it just might convert you to foraging. ALAs are a proven cardio-protective nutrient, and its antioxidant-rich content means that purslane is a powerful superfood that can protect against cancer. In Trinidad and Tobago, purslane is a common herb used for diabetes mellitus. A study in mice with diabetes mellitus found a decrease in blood glucose, increase in good HDL cholesterol and a decrease in triglycerides when the mice consumed purslane. The U.S. has overlooked this weed to the detriment of our health.

Eaten raw, this culinary weed adds a delightful, juicy, sour crispness to salad, or it’s also delicious cooked like spinach. One study found that the ALA content was higher in purslane exposed to low temperatures, so you might want to put purslane you’ve just collected in the fridge for an hour before eating.

But wait, there’s more. Remember all the concern a few years ago about bisphenol A (BPA) in plastics? Purslane, the wonder-plant, can remove BPA from water in 24 hours, according to a Japanese study. Soon, purslane will be put to work in phytoremediation of contaminated industrial wastewater. Purslane keeps delivering the goods.

This article appeared in the Athens Banner Herald, June 27, 2010. http://www.onlineathens.com/stories/062710/liv_661937863.shtml

Mimosa (the tree, not the drink) brings happiness

Mimosa tree, Albizia julibrissin, growing at North Oconee River Greenway, Athens, GA

Although mimosas are called an invasive “trash tree” by many, Dr. Seuss couldn’t have created a more delightful-looking flower than the mimosa bloom. Mimosa’s whimsical June blossoms bring happiness just to gaze upon them, and their bark, foliage and flowers can do the same when taken internally as a tea.

Mimosa trees, Albizia julibrissin, dot the roadsides with their pink blossoms in early summer giving a tropical appearance. The fern-like foliage is made of fine compound leaflets. Mimosa flowers look like silky pink tuffs, giving the tree its other name, silk-tree. After the flowers fade, the seedpods form, resembling peapods, indicating it’s in the Fabaceae family, or pea family.

Originally native to an area ranging from Iran to China, historical accounts suspect mimosas were introduced to America as early as 1745. The famous French botanist, Andre Michaux, introduced the mimosa tree to Charleston in 1786. They produce prolific seeds, which allowed it to quickly spread throughout the South.

Mimosas grow where the soil has taken a beating. In fact, because they tolerate such poor soil and are capable of fixing nitrogen in the soil, they’re one of the species suitable for waste landfill remediation, synergistically enhancing the landscape. That’s an alternative meaning to “trash tree”.

Mimosa blossoms, Albizia julibrissin, "Collective Happiness Flowers"

It might be pure coincidence, but I find it interesting that a tree which heals disturbed land can also heal a disturbed heart. In China the peeled, dried bark of mimosa, called “collective happiness bark” in Chinese, is used as an uplifting remedy for an irritable-type of depression accompanied by insomnia, poor memory, grief and anger. In Chinese medicine this type of depression is diagnosed as a shen disturbance, a shock or trauma to the spiritual aspect of someone’s heart.

Current research has validated the traditional Chinese remedy of mimosa bark, showing that it relieves anxiety and has an antidepressant-like effect. Other studies have found that mimosa foliage and flowers contain antioxidants which inhibit the oxidation of the bad LDL cholesterol, decreasing the danger associated with high LDL cholesterol, which would make a lot of people happy.

The bark is boiled and steeped in water. For a milder effect, one can also use the flowers and leaves. The tea should not be drunk during pregnancy or if one is taking prescribed antidepressants. Also, because mimosas grow in disturbed soil, do be careful not to use any part of a tree growing near railroad tracks which could have absorbed a considerable amount of toxins.

This article was originally published in my Urban Forager Column on Sundays for the Athens Banner Herald–Living, June 20, 2010.                                                 http://www.onlineathens.com/stories/062010/liv_656397734.shtml



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