Botany is not one of my strong suits. Perhaps the strongest memory I have of recognizing that is from a hike some years back during a training class on vernal pools. While hiking to one specific pool, one of the class instructors, Ms. Phyllis Higman, a Senior Conservation Botanist of the Michigan Natural Features Inventory (MNFI), would point to various plants on the way, asking, “What’s this?” Seemingly, she identified just about anything someone would point to. Trees with no leaves, no problem. Little shoots coming up out of the ground, easy peasy. I don’t know if this is typical of a botanist; I still thought she was some wizard.

I don’t have the aptitude or retention skills to remember the taxonomies or all the individual details and features of plants as a botanist can. Much of my earlier photography endeavors were to expose first and identify later. It was a bonus if I went beyond identification into ecology, habitat, conservation status, or specific features, and I learned a little more along the way through the keywording process. However, I will never come close to the knowledge Ms. Higman likely contains in her pinky finger. My benchmark is usually simple: know more than you did yesterday. A bit of this played out with this recent photograph of a skunk cabbage.
Skunk cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus) is undoubtedly a familiar sight in the wetland areas of Michigan in late winter / early spring. It’s an easy, obvious ID, though I couldn’t qualify for extra credit with the scientific name, the taxonomy, or the pseudonyms. It’s usually the first thing popping up in this area, sometimes through the ice, so it’s kind of a no-brainer. I’ve never noticed the namesake smell. I detest the smell of skunk and/or cabbage; you would think I’d be more sensitive to it.
Despite all these years of mainly walking by this alien-looking thing emerging from the mud on my hikes in Southeast Michigan, I’ve never spent much time photographing it or trying to smell it. It is often in very muddy areas, surrounded by melting, thin ice, very low to the ground, requiring kneeling or sitting. This is not only difficult in sensitive habitats without creating a lot of disturbance, but for some crazy reason – with age, my incentive of photographing in the mud has waned.
I happened to spot the individual plant featured here on a hike through a cedar swamp. Given the extremely mild winter and early spring warmth, I was primarily checking to see if spring ephemerals were coming up a few weeks early. The swamp had a few planks of boardwalk weaving through it, making it much easier to grab a photo. It was also conveniently positioned and fairly isolated (rare in a swamp!). So basically an opportunity I thought I could work with.
Photographing these close is also a bit of a technical challenge. While my workhorse Nikon 200mm f/4D IF-ED (1993 release date!) offers a nice bit of working distance, depth-of-field can be quite limited. And there is a lot of depth to be captured in this plant’s features. To address this, I decided to focus stack the series of exposures to get all the shell-like features of the plant as sharp as they could be. Ultimately, 36 images were merged into one. The effort certainly paid off – when viewing at 100%, the little pollen features of the thingamabob in the middle were quite clear.

The pollen is important this time of year when hardly any plants are flowering. As such, the plant uses its odor and early emergence to attract early emerging insects. A key characteristic of this plant (which I may have known and simply forgot) is that they are thermogenic. The plant can generate heat through the chemical processes in its cells that help it emerge through ice and also heat the smelly compounds, attracting insects normally attracted to carrion. I also learned that the thingamabob is a spadix, a common feature in this family of plants (Araceae). The emerging plant itself is more technically referred to as a spathe. Look at all these new fancy keywords! 🙂
I’ve realized that photography has helped me become a better naturalist in seeking to learn more about the subjects that catch my eye. As if to form a symbiotic relationship and move the other way, being a better naturalist has helped my photography in knowing habitats and what to look for. Neither is a recipe for success or discoveries in wherever the next outing will be. Sometimes, I am just content with looking and asking questions, even if the answers come later.






I’ve never gotten low enough to the ground to see the thingamabob in a skunk cabbage. Nor have I done focus stacking. Thanks for doing both for me. Your photos of the emerging plant are beautiful as well as instructive.
This particular skunk cabbage must have been proud of its thingamabob, it was easily visible from the boardwalk. Appreciate the comments Linda!
Great shots of the skunk cabbage. The focus stack is really amazing!
“but for some crazy reason – with age, my incentive of photographing in the mud has waned.” Ha, I know exactly what you mean. Yup, I do!
Thanks Howard. Haha, I know you know what I mean about the mud (maybe throw in some cold and rain too eh? 😉 )
Your opening photo is beautiful, Mark, and the detail is amazing. I know one needs focus stacking to get there and I’ve tried it a few times but haven’t stayed with it. The colors of the Skunk cabbage photo are gorgeous, too. When I moved West I swapped out Skunk cabbage for the western version Michael mentioned – the yellow color of it is really nice in the dim gloom where these plants usually hang out.
Kudos to you for knowing more than you did yesterday – I wish I could remember more than I did yesterday – or as much! The facts just fly away…
Thanks for an interesting post. 🙂
LOL! Oh boy can I relate to “the facts just fly away!” It’s like my head has a hidden hole or something and I wish I had a catch bucket. I suppose I should have clarified that even though I learn something new, retaining it for a period of time is another story. I’ve caught myself writing posts that I had already written before!
There is indeed a striking difference to the western version, which I also didn’t know until Michael pointed it out.
Thanks Lynn, your visit is appreciated.
Great photo of a very “other-worldly” looking subject, Mark. It sounds like a process that involves a lot of work, but the final depth-of-field results are lovely. Kudo’s!
Thanks Earl. While certainly more work than just setting the lens at f/22 and a single shot, software like Helicon Focus helps a lot in stitching it all together. I don’t even think I’d attempt such a thing manually.
That is a very beautiful thingamabob, my friend!! The stacked image worked well, which is something I have never tried. That is not a plant we have out here. I like your descriptive name of alien-looking plant. I’ve encountered birders like Ms. Phyllis Higman. Of course I never knew if they really knew what they were talking about. I just accepted it and listened. And, that is one muddy looking boardwalk!
I see you have the Nikon Z8. If you posted about this purchase I must have zoned out. I’m sure you will enjoy it and put it to good work!! You already have.
Keen eye on the camera mention Monte. I kinda just snuck that in there to see who might notice. I have not posted about it – just getting to know it actually.
Maybe aliens are on my mind as I just watched one of the Alien movies – this plant might fit in nicely. 🙂 Thanks Monte.
I liked these skunk cabbage photos Mark! The botanical terminology can be daunting and sometimes makes a blog post remind me of homework! The skunk cabbage we have here (Lysichiton americanum) looks similar but has a very yellow spathe and an elongated spadix compared to your species. I have definitely noticed the smell as of a few days ago, but it is very mild compared to an actual skunk!
Very much like homework! And I know there are all sorts of features that also have names, the specific chemicals the plant emits, etc – but one has to set limits!! 🙂 I know first hand the skunk experience at very close range while trying to hold two dogs back.
Thankfully the Skunk Cabbages are much more passive than the real thing!
Great pictures, the thingamabob is really darn cool looking! 🙂 (and botanical terms are still killing me.)
Thank you Alex. I honestly don’t know how you keep up with all the plant ID (or at least you hide the struggle well! 🙂 )
It is the latter, but I’ve relaxed about trying to ID some plants down to species level too. It’s just too time consuming and would often require a level of documentation with the camera that is just too much, and would often be rather “invasive” too. (getting close enough to get detail photos of some features would mean trampling something else, etc.)