The Osage orange

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist

I often imagine what our creek valley was like, hundreds, if not thousands of years before Greg and I made our home here. I particularly wonder this time of year – that Osage orange time – the time when the large green fruits drop thunderously to the ground. Who are the Osage, the people after whom the trees and fruits that grow in the valley were named?

I remember there was an Osage orange tree in the backyard of our children’s nursery school in the city. Generations of children had climbed its scraggly limbs until the bark wore smooth. I remember how the children would delight when the odd green fruit dropped in the fall. 

Back then, I was busy with motherly and lawyerly things, and never took much notice in the children's wonder, but now, in my older years, I've learned to respect this scraggly looking tree and the people after whom it's named.

I've learned that the Osage people once lived here, in the Ohio River valley, but that during the 17th century, as European settlers moved in, they moved away, heading farther west, and eventually settled along the shores of the Mississippi River. In time, they moved even farther west, settling in their present-day lands in northern Oklahoma.

Their life here in the Ohio River valley was based on farming, hunting and gathering. They grew crops, corn, beans and squash, and hunted bison, deer, bear and beaver. They lived together in towns, in which family groups occupied large longhouses built of logs and covered with skins from their hunts. They were peaceful people, who had everything they needed right outside their doors. They left no evidence of aggression in the archaeological record.

I was fascinated to learn that many years after the Osage left the Ohio River valley, and finally settled on land that was deeded to them by the government, they became the wealthiest people, per capita, in the world. Oil was discovered on their land, yet even through the tumult of their newly acquired wealth, and the predatory practices of government appointed "guardians," assigned to help manage this wealth, the Osage were able to maintain their integrity and identity. 

The Osage Nation currently has over 20,000 members. I smile to think that the Osage tree is aptly named after them. It is one of the strongest woods in the world, prized for its strength and flexibility.

We have several Osage trees that grow along upper side of our second field behind Greg’s shop. The neon green fruits are larger than my two fists held together, and every fall they crash to the ground with a shockingly loud thud. When one happens to hit the metal roof of the shop, the thunderous boom is startling. In over 20 years, I've not gotten used to it. I startle every time I hear it.

Then, as the fruit lay on the ground, I find myself drawn to them. I go out of my way to stop by and bend down to pick up the green orbs. I turn them over in my hands. I marvel at their wavy, grooved surface. I hold them up to my nose and inhale the pleasant citrus scent, and then I gather up as many as I can carry, and bring them up the hill to the cabin. If I am careful, I can open the door without dropping any, and once inside, I place them on my ground floor workbench. Their soft citrus scent fills the cabin's air.

I have also learned that in the early 1800s, when explorers Lewis and Clark mapped their way west across North America, that they met up with the Osage Nation, who at that time had migrated to the Great Plains. Lewis and Clark noted that the Osage “so esteemed the tree” that they would travel hundreds of miles back to the Ohio River valley to find it. They prized the hardness of the tree's orange wood and continued to make their spears and arrows out of it. Greg and I can attest that it is indeed a very hard wood. It quickly dulls our chainsaw blades.

Osage orange trees can grow to be 50 feet tall, though the ones in our creek valley typically grow no more than 30 to 40 feet in height. Those that grow behind Greg’s shop are perhaps 30 feet tall. I have learned that the sweet-smelling fruits are not edible, and that some folks have an allergic reaction from just a touch, and break out in a rash. Thankfully, I don’t seem to be allergic.

I have further learned that the Osage fruit’s citrus scent is believed to repel insects, and they’ve accordingly been gathered, and brought inside homes for this purpose. Modern chemistry has not been able to prove this, even though they do contain insect repelling compounds. These compounds, however, are theoretically not present in sufficient quantities to be effective. I figure, however, that effective or not, the Osage Orange scent is lovely, and nothing ventured, nothing gained, so every fall I set out to gather up as many Osage Orange fruit as I can.

I can't even begin to count the number of Osage oranges that I have distributed about the cabin. Three or four line every windowsill. They perch on our bookshelves, dressers, and end tables. They sit in a large bowl on the dining room table, and yes, our house does smell wonderful, and their neon green scattered about the cabin is lovely.

When the cold rain falls across the valley, and I snuggle under a blanket on the couch, I think of the resolute people who lived here over 2,000 years ago. My Osage walking stick rests against the wall by the door, the fruit decorating the table, and the strength of the Osage and the sweet scent of the orbs surround me.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.

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