Camas

Family: Liliaceae
Genus: Camassia
Species: quamash

The spring-blooming bulbs most likely to capture our attention are exotics: they’re not native to our region or even to our continent. Daffodils, tulips, hyacinths, and crocus all come from central Europe or Eurasia. We tend to forget that North America has its own array of extraordinarily beautiful plants grown from bulbs, many of them native to our western region. These thrive in our soils and appreciate the cycle of wet winters and dry summers characteristic of the place they—and we—call “home.”

None of our native western bulbs is more important to our region than the one known variously as camas, camassia, small camas, quamassia, quamas, and camas lily. For years it carried Camassia esculenta as its botanical moniker; you’ll still find it listed under this name in many reference books and plant lists. But Camassia quamash is now its official name; although as many point out, the two terms share a certain redundancy.

How important is camas? Noted botanist Leslie Haskin went so far as to write in 1934: “There is more romance and adventure clustered about the camas root and flower than about almost any other American plant.” Tribal wars and family feuds erupted over disputes about ownership of camas fields, which were so extensive they were described as looking like large, deep-blue “lakes.” Native people had a set of sophisticated management techniques to tend the wild fields. These included inherited ownership and responsibility for particular camas beds; clearing rocks and brush and burning weeds; cultivating the soil to keep it loose; transplanting the best bulbs; practicing sustainable harvesting methods, including selective gathering; and removing death-camas bulbs (Zigadenus venenosus) so they wouldn’t be mistaken for the edible variety.

Camas bulbs were important food staples as well as central elements of celebratory feasts. Most early explorers credited camas with saving them from extreme hunger or worse. Later, settlers declared them worthy replacements for other, more familiar comestibles. Native people layered camas bulbs with moistened grasses in pits and roasted them for “two nights and a day.” Settlers learned to stew camas for nearly as long, until it became soft and sweet. Then they used it to make the western equivalent of the pumpkin and squash pies they remembered from home.

Today, the swaths of deep blue are gone. We can only imagine one stretching from Sehome Hill north to Ferndale. We seldom see camas growing in the wild. But we can still enjoy it in our gardens, for its beauty if not for its food value. Plant a few bulbs this fall, about six inches deep in a prepared bed that gets full sun through winter and spring. Next year you’ll spot the narrow leaves in very early spring and within what seems like just a few days, the small, starry flowers will erupt from the fast-growing central stalk. Most of your camas will have blue flowers, although one or two white ones are apt to sneak in over time, even if you plant the named varieties that are more readily available in the marketplace every year. They now come in all shades of blue and purple—and Camassia quamash ‘Blue Melody’ even has variegated leaves.

One of the nice things about camas is its tendency to disappear very soon after it blooms, even though it will return in a year. The stalk will dry quickly and so will the leaves.You can clean them up and tidy their beds while daffodils and tulips are still taking their own sweet time to yellow and dry out. Another advantage is that deer dislike camas and are apt to leave yours alone. Even without being nibbled, however, its quick fading means camas will leave holes in your border early in the season. Be sure to plant them among perennials that emerge later in the spring and fill out over the summer. Many people find daylilies perfect for this.

One of the reasons Chief Joseph led his people away from their homeland was to protest the destruction of tribal camas meadows by settlers’ plows and livestock. As camas went, so went the west. Other native bulbs also became scarce as their habitat gave way to agriculture and later, development. In the nick of time, these beauties caught the attention of plant breeders in Europe. They’re working to restore native western bulbs to prominence, if only in domesticated settings. You’ll see a wider selection more readily available every year. Today, our own Camassia quamash is finding favor in gardens around the world. But as you and I know, there’s no place like home.