Blooming in November - False Yellowhead or Tayun Hadavik - The Last Blooming Flower of the Summer

 November 2021 כסלב תשפ"ב

The last blooming flower of the summer

November and barely any sign of rain.  We feel it even more so this year, as the festival of Succot ended in September, and we’ve been expecting and praying for the rain to fall ever since. The Jewish holidays already feel like they were ages ago, the donuts for Hanukkah have been in the stores for a month, and it is dry, dry, and dry.  The landscape is a sea of brown.  While out walking in the forests and hills around Modiin, there is nothing to quench my thirst for green unless I lift my eyes up to tree level.  In June and July, I enjoy the dried thorns whose beauty I have discovered over time.  By now, however, the annual herd of sheep and goats have been let loose to graze on the surrounding nature reserves and munched their way through every last stalk.  These herds are brought to the area by the local authorities in order to reduce the foliage to prevent forest fires.

There is one plant, however, which gives a welcome flash of green and an added ray of sunshine with its yellow flower.  You won’t find it in a forest or on a natural hillside as it tends to prefer places where we humans have interfered with the land.  The false yellowhead or tayun hadavik in Hebrew grows at the side of roads, old building sites, in the cracks of pavements and alongside dirt tracks.  It likes its soil to be bland and without many nutrients so it prefers the meek offerings of a bit of dirt left over after we have finished with it.  

Because it pops up in all sorts of cracks and disused areas it would be classified by most people as a weed. However I am part of a growing population of plant lovers that likes to state loudly and insistently that a weed is just a plant growing where it is not wanted.  I believe that each ‘weed’ has just as much importance to nature, sustainability, biodiversity, food for animals, pollen for bees and medicinal and beauty properties for humans as the most precious orchid.

Its Hebrew name translates as ‘the sticky clay.’  This is because it favours growing in clay soil and clay in Hebrew is tin, contained in the word tayun.  Davik, sticky, is a reference to its leaves which are indeed sticky.  These leaves keep many an Israeli schoolchild entertained while out hiking in nature.  They love to pick the leaves and stick them on each other declaring that they have given their friend a ‘medal’ in the form of a sticky, smelly green leaf!    Unfortunately the invention of dry fit t-shirts has rendered this activity useless.  Nothing sticks to dry fit!!

Did you notice that I called it a ‘smelly leaf’?  The tayun is indeed very pungent, with a smell I find hard to describe.  Just brushing past the plant while walking will release an aromatic, antiseptic, medicinal smell which I deeply dislike.  In an interview in Maariv newspaper in 1986 the Poet Yehuda Amichai said of the tayun: “The smell from the tayun is the true smell of the Land of Israel, a little sweet, a little bitter, also dry, also strong and also desperate.”

The tayun is part of the Daisy flower family or also known as the aster, sunflower or officially the compositeae family.  Knowing what family a flower comes from can help in identifying it and understanding its character, just like in a human family.  In Hebrew it is called the murcavim family, which literally means complicated (I’m sure we all know complicated families!).  It has this name because the flower is generally (but not exclusively) made up of two types of flower.  You need to look very closely to see the first part.  This is normally the flat, middle part of the flower, called the disk in English.  In Hebrew, it’s called tzinoriim, which means pipes, because each disk is actually made up of hundreds of tiny pipes.  The outer flowers, which look more like traditional petals but are actually individual flowers, are called ray flowers because they resemble the sun’s rays.  In Hebrew these are lashoniim which means tongues!   The whole flower looks like a yellow daisy.  The tayun davik has a cousin called tayunit hacholot  and can be found growing in sandy areas, as its name suggests.  In English, this is called camphorweed, and its yellow flower is actually much more impressive than the one found inland; the sea of gold adorning Israel’s beaches at the moment is the camphorweed.

The tayun hadavik has been described as a mobile pharmacy.  It is said to aid and heal 40 different medical conditions!  The juice from the leaves has antibacterial properties and makes a good poultice for a wound.  The plant also has anti-inflammatory properties, and it is recommended to put the leaves in a hot bath to ease aching joints.  You can steep its leaves in hot water and drink two glasses of this a day to reduce blood pressure.  I must confess that as I can’t tolerate the smell, I haven’t been tempted to drink it yet, and it’s hard to imagine ever choosing a brewed, strong-smelling inula leaf over a nice cup of English tea!  Despite the smell I still appreciate these little rays of sun on my walks, a nice change from the brown dusty landscape.

Blooming in October – Sea daffodil or Sea Pancratium Lily - Chavatzelet Hachof - חבצלת החוף

October 2021 חשבן תשפ"ב

Sun, Sea, Sand And Flowers

Growing up in London a visit to the beach was a big deal.  It was at least a two hour drive, there was often terrible traffic, the beach pebbly and hard to walk on and it would generally be cold and windy so we would sit huddled around a thermos of tea in our jackets.

Here I am so lucky to be only half an hour drive from one of the most stunning beaches in Israel – Palmachim.  It isn’t just a beach; it is also a nature reserve so I get not only sea and sand but also intricate rock formations, dunes and cliffs sprouting plants and flowers.

The plants that grow along the coast are often from the same families that grow inland but are different species that are adapted to coastal conditions.  They are often hardier, more succulent and more resilient in order to stand up to the constant assault of wind, sand and salt.  It makes me think of the old school life guards who are tanned and ruddy and look like they are part of the landscape.

September and October are the perfect season to go to the beach as the crowds have gone but the sea is still warm enough to swim in.  An added surprise to a visit to the beaches up and down the coast now is the discovery of the sea daffodil or sea pancratium lily or in Hebrew chavatzelet hachof.  The shorter daylight hours have sent it a signal to poke its head out of the ground already in August. Only a very determined flower will bloom at this time of year as it has to tap into its underground energy source to flower when there is no rain. This source is an underground bulb and all flowers that have bulbs are called geophytes. It is also clever enough to bloom when no other flowers are in flower so it has exclusivity from the pollinators.  The only other competition out there is the equally determined white squill and that flowers inland.  Even during the rest of the year very few flowers can grow this close to the beach.  The sea daffodil grows mainly up to 100 meters from the sea which means it is particularly tough.

The sea daffodil can be spotted on the low dunes overlooking the beach. Its stalk is thick and juicy looking with a white waxy sheen which protects it from the coastal elements.  It can grow up to 60 cm tall.  The flower has six delicate outer petals forming a star shape around an impressive white crown and if you lean in close it has a slight fragrance.

A little added surprise is the bud of the new flower alongside the open bloom.  This bud has a lovely green and white striped feature which is beautiful in itself.  The fruit grows quickly and looks like a small green peach. 

If you like the beach at the hottest time of day then you will be disappointed to find that the sea daffodil is closed. I love the beach at sunset which is when the flower opens up and it stays open during the night until the late hours of the morning.  This is because along the coast the winds are stronger during the day which makes it hard for the pollinators to pollinate so it is pollinated at night by moths.  

Moving inland you will find another type of pancratium called the small flowered pancratium, bat chavatelet katanat prachim.  Even though it is not as impressive as its cousin it is still a beautiful site to those of us thirsty for flowers after the long hot summer. It grows in mountainous regions and this year at Neot kedumim Biblical Nature Reserve we have the most impressive spread I have ever seen.  That could be because unfortunately our flock of sheep and goats were stolen from the reserve during the pandemic and the foliage is being spared from grazing.

Small flowered pancratium

Bat chavatzelet katanat prachim

The clue to the Hebrew name is in the root of the word.  Hidden inside chavatzelet is the Hebrew word batzal which means bulb.  As with most Israeli flowers they are also used as girl’s names.  However, names come and go depending on the fashion and there are probably not many women in Israel called Chavatzelet under the age of 70.  

There is no book with more beautiful flower and plant metaphors than The Song of Songs and the sea daffodil gets a deserving mention: 

 “I am rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys”. Song of Songs 2:1

The Hebrew version states “chavatzelet” but all the English versions translate it as “rose”.  This typifies the difficulties of translating plant names in the Bible.  It isn’t just a problem of translation but also a question as to whether the Bible is even talking about the same plant that we know now.  There are still many question marks regarding certain flowers and plants from the bible which will probably never be resolved.  I know how it feels.  After 30 years of living in Israel I still find that things get lost in translation.  One of my favorite language moments was watching a British comedienne trying to explain to an Israeli audience in Hebrew that things had gone ‘pear shaped’ (British slang for ‘gone awry'). Now that certainly got lost in translation!