Next time you find yourself in the hospital wearing
one of those stylish backless gowns, take heart in knowing it could have been
worse. Had you been a Florida aborigine with fevers, the local shaman might
have wrapped you in Spanish moss and told you to hop on the grill while he lit
a fire under it. Don’t you feel better?
For thousands of years, Florida natives and the
Euro-Floridians who followed have found many uses for Spanish moss. If there were such things as plant celebrities, Spanish moss would
surely be a superstar.
The name Spanish moss comes from early French settlers in Louisiana who called it barbe Espagnole, or “Spaniards beard”. The Spanish countered, calling it "Frenchman’s wig." Meanwhile, a Swedish botanist quietly entered the naming game.
In the mid-1700’s, with the creation of Carl
Linnaeus system of binomial nomenclature, that systematically organized all
plants and animals and gave the Latin names, the business of naming Spanish
moss was no longer in the hands of whimsical name-callers, but in those of
high-browed academics with an eye toward serious science. So, with the pomp of
a nobleman (which he was) Linnaeus stepped up to the proverbial plate and named
the plant Tillandsia, in homage to his noble friend Tillands because of his tendency
to barf (nobly, I'm sure) every time he got on a boat. Okay, so much for high–browed academia.
In Linnaeus' day, botanists believed the tiny gray scales that sheathed Spanish
moss’ wiry strands acted to repel water. It was later learned that the scales
actually collect moisture and nutrients from the air, but by that time Tillands
and his celebrated water-repelling stomach were firmly entrenched in the annals
of botanical nomenclature. The species name, usneaoides, refers to its
similarity to lichen called usnea or “old man’s beard”.
Seen from a distance, the long festoons of Spanish moss waving lazily in the breeze give an easy, ethereal effect to any setting. Up close, however, all that southern charm is gone with the wind. Fluffy masses of wiry, gray strands evoke images of Einstein on a
bad hair day. Look closer still and you might discover Spanish mosses best-kept secret--flowers. Many Floridians have lived entire lives against the backdrop of moss-draped live oaks without ever noticing the small greenish (sometime pale blue) blooms nestled among the strands. When you find one, take a whiff (but not too hard or the tiny bloom with disappear into your nose). The first time I smelled one, I recognized it immediately. While I had never been consciously aware of the scent, I knew it. Spanish moss blooms have probably scented every warm summer breath of my life,
Early explorers were intrigued with
Spanish moss--mainly because Indian women wore moss skirts and shawls draped
loosely over their otherwise naked bodies. (Special note to any of you
considering going "retro" and reviving this attractive fashion--over 160
species of insects, spiders, mites and other unfashionable critters are known
to raise their annoying little families in this plant). In addition to
clothing, the moss had other uses. Babies were sometimes bundled in it and a
decoction of boiled moss was rubbed on the heads of newborns to give them curly
hair. Later, simplers (folk healers who used plants for cures) used it for
“female problems” and gallbladder ailments.
While most of these folk remedies faded into
obscurity, at least one bridged the gap between lore and science. In Louisiana,
where Spanish moss tea was used by wild crafters as a treatment for diabetes,
researchers have found that it reduces blood glucose levels in rats 4 – 8 hours
after ingestion. To date, no diabetes drugs have been derived from Spanish
moss, but research is ongoing.
Another example of modern science propping up
folklore is found in the use of Spanish moss as bandaging material by both
American Indians and soldiers during the Civil War. Since that time, the plant
has been found to contain an enzyme that breaks down dead tissue and enhances
healing. It has also been found to have both analgesic and antibacterial
properties. To top it off, tests at the Mayo Clinic showed that sterilized
Spanish moss is more absorbent than an equal weight of cotton. And, we aren’t
making Spanish moss bandages because …?
Perhaps the best known use of Spanish moss was as
cushioning material for horse buggy seats and later, automobiles. In the late
19th and first half of the 20th centuries, a thriving
cottage industry of gathering, curing and selling Spanish moss kept food on the
tables of many Florida cracker families. Alachua County was at the heart of the
trade. In Gainesville alone, three commercial ginning operations bought moss from
private “pickers” and processed it for use by upholstery and car manufacturers.
These days, having survived the simplers, moss
pickers, and a devastating blight in the 1960’s and ‘70’s, Spanish moss has
returned to doing what it does best – decorating our wild places with its
graceful, southern charm and providing housing for warblers and countless
little creepy-crawlies. Even chiggers need a home.
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