the eye and the nose. Crush one and you’ll

the eye and the nose. Crush one and you’ll see what I mean. Overwintering birds — grouse, mockingbirds, robins and wild turkeys love these red fruits. Deer browse on both the red fruits and twigs.

When the woods are gray and brown in winter, spicebush twigs reward the seeker. Crushed, they have a pleasant scent and taste intensified by the cold. Or maybe it just seems so to me. Spicebush has its rewards at all seasons.

Spicebush does not announce its beauty like a dogwood or redbud. One has to seek its subtle charm. The shrub is rarely very large; the largest one I have found was about 15 feet tall. Most of them are under 3 feet. There is no distinctive shape to the plant; the twigs go out in all directions. The important point to remember when spicebush hunting is that the plant is rarely far from water.

In a delightful and informative book, “Magic and Medicine of Plants,” published by Reader’s Digest (1986), I learned that during the American Revolution spicebush berries were dried, crushed and used as a substitute for allspice that had previously been imported from Europe. Leaves and twigs of spicebush were used by settlers to make an infusion to induce sweating and break a fever. It has also been the source of folk medicine to cure dysentery, colds and coughs. Our ancestors learned this from the Indians, I suppose. Native American women made a tea from the twigs to promote menstruation and ease its pain.

All this makes me wonder if, with the modern interest in the medicinal value of native plants, the spicebush has been rediscovered for its curative powers.

Don’t wait to go spicebush hunting. The tiny yellow flowers don’t last long. The blooms fade quickly after the male flowers have yielded their yellow pollen to early bees that carry it to the female flowers. Then the leaves appear and the smell of one crushed between fingers makes a trip to the late spring and summer woods a pleasure for the nose.