Sarina Simpson

Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus)

As I trudged through the mud surrounded by bland, brown foliage I felt myself grow frustrated at my dad for forcing us to go hiking after it had snowed for three days. The mud made the hike exceptionally laborious, as we had to constantly avoid the sodden path by going in to the thorny brush.

As I looked to my right, however, I saw a peculiar plant that appeared to be one, sole leaf sticking up from the ground. It was completely vertical, and strikingly green in relation to the dreary backdrop. I found it odd that this solitary, strangely oriented plant that I had never come across caught my attention amidst my arduous walk, but found it interesting nonetheless.

As we continued our walk, I saw the same plant but in patchy, uneven groups. Not all of the plants, however, were singular leaves. Others consisted of multiple, usually four or five, that spread out with the biggest leaves horizontal to the stem and the smaller leaves, who still needed some time to grow, stuck upwards, awaiting their time to gradually divagate from the others. Their vivid green color was even more striking as the leaves took up more space, created a softly curving cover for the ground below them.

Seeing these fascinating specimens made my dull, monotonous walk a little more interesting. The simplicity of their beauty became obvious as the sunlight falling through the tress revealed a transparent quality to the leaves, showing that resplendence will shine through even when the world seems barren and desolate.