Bog Labrador tea -- Rhododendron groenlandicum
Rhododendron groenlandicum, bog Labrador tea (English), s’ikshaldéen (Tlingit)
Traversing a muskeg in Southeast Alaska is a unique experience. Offering open expanses, they grant the eye some relief in a part of the world where thick conifer forests and steep mountains often limit long views. They are prehistoric looking yet no older than the retreat of the ice about 10,000 years ago. They hold a distinct assemblage of plants that have adapted to the inhospitable home that the muskeg provides. Muskegs are one of my favorite places to be and in them are found some of my favorite plants including bog Labrador tea (Rhododendron groenlandicum).
A relatively small, often leggy, and thicket forming shrub, bog Labrador tea grows throughout much of Alaska, Canada, the northern portion of the continental United States, and as the species names suggests, portions of Greenland. They are most frequently found in muskegs (a word synonymous with bog), a type of wetland which is heavily influenced by the presence of sphagnum moss and characterized by high acidity, thickly accumulated peat, and limited groundwater infiltration. The fact that bog Labrador tea tend to grow most abundantly on hummocks, slightly raised drier areas within muskegs, indicates that though they are happy in the harsh wetland, they are not restricted to the super saturated landscape. They also grow on exposed ridgelines, open tundra, shorelines of lakes and ponds, and although they seem to prefer abundant sun and moisture, they can survive in somewhat shaded and dry locations.
Bog Labrador tea has a few specialized adaptations that allow for comfortable growth in a landscape low on available nutrients, soil oxygen, and at times water. The most obvious adaptations are found in the leaves, which are clear indicators of a plant that recognizes the need to limited losses. Thick, waxy, hairy, and with a downward-curled leaf edge, all of these characteristics are a response to the stressful environment in which bog Labrador tea grows. Primarily, these traits help the plant hold on to moisture by creating barriers to water loss through the leaves. The northern regions that these plants inhabit offer plenty of water in the summer, but fleeting summers they are. Cold temperatures of the long winters lock up water in the form of ice and snow, making root uptake impossible or difficult even long after air temperatures and sunlight trigger renewed growth in the spring. And so it is that these wetland dwellers must ironically have adaptations that allow them to endure extended drought.
The rust colored mat of hair (indumentum) on the underside of the leaf is not just helpful to the plants, for the muskeg wanderer it is a quick and fool-proof identifying characteristic. Pick a leaf, tear into small pieces, hold near your nose and inhale. The aroma is wonderfully earthy and faintly citrus. Grab a handful for brewing some tea just as people have done for thousands of years. There is an undeniable beauty in these remarkable plants though recognition might take more than a moment’s thought.
For me, no plant surpasses bog Labrador tea in evoking a sense of place. Though white in color on newly emergent leaves, the rusty color the indumentum takes on with age is the color of the muskeg in autumn. The sharp earthiness of the crushed leaf at your nose is the smell of the muskeg. The sharp earthiness of the muskeg at your nose is the smell of the crushed leaf. That the smell of the ground and the smell of the plant are so closely aligned is probably not that strange. After all, the plant grows from the ground, taking from it what little nutrient and water it can extract and adding that to its being. More importantly, when the leaf falls, it falls onto the ground and is added to the leaves that have accumulated there over these thousands of years since the ice left, slowly building up the muskeg.