Sweetgrass: A people-plant partnership that stands the test of time
- Kate Harries
- Nov 2
- 3 min read
By Kate Harries, Return of the Native
The fragrance that’s released from a patch of sweetgrass (Hierochloë odorata) comes from a compound called coumarin, which occurs naturally in many plants, including cinnamon, sweet clover and licorice root as well as fruit like strawberries, apricots and cherries.
Until the mid-20th century, coumarin was widely used in cooking for its flavour until its toxic effect on the liver was discovered. As a result, coumarin is banned as a food additive – but we can still enjoy its fragrance by drying the grass. This intensifies the sweet scent which is said to last for 100 years if kept dry and cool.
Indigenous people consider sweetgrass to be the hair of Mother Earth, to be taken with respect and ceremony. It’s recommended that the plants be harvested mid-morning in summer, and dried in the shade. When dry, one of its uses is for smudging, either braided or bundled with other aromatic plants like tobacco, white sagebrush, eastern white cedar and many others. The purpose of smudging is to cleanse the space and soothe the spirit. Such a ceremony has deep spiritual significance, connecting first peoples to their land and their ancestors.

Indigenous peoples are not dogmatic – they will use plants for their desirable properties regardless of their origin. So strongly scented non-native plants like lavender, rosemary and common sage can find their place in a smudging bundle. Sweetgrass is a wide-ranging plant – it grows throughout the northern hemisphere. In Russia it flavours tea, in Poland there’s a vodka that comes with a blade of ‘bison’ grass in every bottle, the Chinese use it in incense.
It’s not fussy and will make itself at home in most conditions. It does need at least a half day of sun and prefers moist soil, but I dug up the plants that I have from a friend’s very dry and sunny yard where it had spread aggressively to occupy available space to the full.

It produces seed in early spring, but the germination rate is not great - 25 to 50 per cent. There’s speculation that the reason for the poor success rate is that the plant has adapted genetically to the indigenous practice of propagation by division. In fact, it appears that the plant thrives because of its partnership with people. In Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer describe one of her students’ research projects: to determine whether the sweetgrass plants are harmed by harvesting. The result after two years: the control plots that had not been touched were dull and brown, the harvested plots “gleamed shiny golden green.”
Around the globe, the story of the natural world is one that’s entwined with that of indigenous people, each protecting and taking care of the other. Sweetgrass offers a vivid illustration of how this works.
Sources:
Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer. (2013). Milkweed Editions.
The Medicine Wheel Garden: Creating Sacred Space for Healing, Celebration, and Tranquility by E. Barrie Kavasch. (2000). The Countryman Press.










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