QuickTake:

Camas, a plant with deep ecological and cultural importance, is thriving again in parts of Westmoreland Park, thanks to nearly four years of hands-on care from volunteers.

The tall, purple camas flowers that sway in Westmoreland Park on warm spring days were nearly lost to the grass and weeds that grew around it. So too was the visibility of how people’s lives were once intertwined with the plant.  

Over the last four years, a small yet determined group of volunteers has weeded patches next to the pickleball courts, clipping the grass and tugging out weeds to the steady plink of the games. It has taken multiple seasons for the camas, a perennial herb, to return to a thriving state. 

Along with it are nearly 30 other native plants like the yellow petals of narrowleaf mule’s ears, clusters of popcorn flowers, and silverpuffs that grow like dandelions. It’s a glimpse into what the land looked like long before it was Eugene and Springfield, when the Kalapuya, who once lived here, cultivated camas, or andip in the Kalapuyan language.

“These are culturally important plants,” ecologist Diane Steeck explained to a group during a work party in the park in late May. Steeck is with the city of Eugene’s Parks and Open Space department, which provided equipment for volunteers. 

“Indigenous people depended on them and continue to use them for food, medicine, and cultural purposes,” she said. 

  • A man rides a bike next to two people having a conversation.
  • Purple flowers of camas on a sunny day.
  • Two people hold a bucket together, walking.
  • A person holds clippers.
  • A bee in a cluster of flowers.

When harvested, camas is a bulb that can be boiled or baked into something resembling a starchy pear. In bloom, its petals can be eaten straight from the stem, with the crisp bite and peppery taste of a salad green.

But for camas to reach its full potential, rising 2 to 4 feet tall, seeds need plenty of sunlight to germinate and grow into its hearty form. The Kalapuya understood it as a fire-adapted plant, with roots that grow deeper each season and can survive extreme heat. So they burned prairie land each fall, preventing tall grasses from taking over. In doing so, they provided a sustainable food source. 

Now, scientists and land managers are increasingly drawing from the Kalapuya’s ways, which some refer to as traditional ecological knowledge, as they confront some of the most pressing effects of climate change.

‘Just exceptional this year’

Kalapuya storyteller Esther Stutzman has shared the tribe’s seasonal stewardship, carried out in this valley since time immemorial, through a mural in the park. Created in collaboration with artist Susan Applegate, teachings unfold like a tapestry across the back of the community center in the park. The $10,000 project was a joint effort supported by Beyond Toxics, Friendly Area Neighbors, and the city of Eugene. 

  • A portrait of two people tending with plants painted around them.
  • A close-up of camas painted on the mural.
  • A shot of the mural that gives credit to the artist and storyteller.
  • A picture of the mural that shows children listening to a woman.

It’s through this collaboration that Steeck and Jennifer Eisele, ecosystems and communities project manager with Beyond Toxics, met. Both women have taken a hands-on role — literally — dedicating their personal time to caring for the wetland prairie that stretches out before the mural. 

It’s part of Eisele’s work and her organization’s mission to help lead the community in transitioning away from pesticide use. That means rolling up her sleeves, pulling invasive species like meadow foxtail out of the ground. 

She’s now seeing the fruits of her labor. 

“The camas seeds are just exceptional this year,” said Eisele, looking at grape-size pods that protect them. 

  • A woman weeds in front of the mural.
  • A closeup of a woman with plants in her hands.
  • The seeds of camas.
  • A close up of Camas flowers.
  • The flowers of biscuitroot

Eisele moved to the area from the Duck Valley Reservation in Northern Nevada. There is also camas that grows there but of a dark blue hue. They grow there in bigger patches that she describes as meadows. 

“They’re as big as this park, I mean the whole park maybe bigger, like a couple of hundred acres,” she said. 

Camas may grow in small patches across Westmoreland Park, but it grows strong, thanks to the steady efforts of volunteers. In addition to springtime weeding, volunteers return in the fall to lay tarps over sections of grass, mimicking the effects of fire by suppressing seed growth. Once the rains return, the tarps are removed to allow the soil to saturate.

Within the prairie is also barestem biscuitroot, which is a first food of its own. Its flowers taste like celery and have the tender crunch of broccoli florets. Other parts of the plant can be used for medicinal purposes. These wetlands are believed to host the largest population of biscuitroot in the city.

‘Bring back the camas’

It requires ongoing work to give these plants the space they need to take hold. That’s why Nancy Bray, of Friendly Area Neighbors, organizes regular volunteer work parties.

Bray, who lives in the home her parents built near the park, has watched the land evolve. Over the decades, it’s been agricultural fields and even an airport. Now, she can clearly see the difference between prairie patches that are stewarded and those left untouched. In the latter, plants grow crowded and stressed.

“It’s reduce and remove, because we’ll never get rid of it, but at least keep it under control,” Bray said. “Little by little, bring back the camas.” 

Ashli Blow brings 12 years of experience in journalism and science writing, focusing on the intersection of issues that impact everyone connected to the land — whether private or public, developed or forested.