During a late fall or winter hike, have you ever heard a rattling sound without being able to tell the source? Maybe for a minute, your primordial brain thought it was a rattlesnake until your rational brain reminded you that there are no rattlesnakes in the Baltimore area (there are timber rattlesnakes in Maryland but they are found mostly in Maryland’s four western counties). If you were lucky enough to be caught in the rain when the rattling increased maybe you thought of a long-lost love and these lyrics:

“Kentucky rain keeps pouring down And up ahead’s another town that I’ll go walking through With the rain in my shoes (rain in my shoes) Searching for you In the cold Kentucky rain In the cold Kentucky rain ...”

When Eddie Rabbitt and Richard Heard wrote “Kentucky Rain” for Elvis Presley, maybe they were inspired by the Kentucky coffeetree. There are a few specimens in the Baltimore metropolitan area (Druid Hill Park, Cylburn Arboretum and Cromwell Valley Park, among others) and they are well worth the walk to see them. If you hear that rattling — look up. Woody semicircular pods, 5 to 10 inches, long hang from the panicles of female trees.

With even a mild breeze or rainfall, they are a natural wind chime. Each of these “fruits” contains a few seeds. The seeds look like dark chocolate milk duds or petrified deer scat. They are embedded in a sticky pulp that is greenish-brown. By winter the seed pods are easy to open and the seeds readily separate from the pulp.

The botanical name is Gymnocladus dioecious (from the Greek gymnos meaning naked and klados meaning branch) because of the large branches that are visible throughout much of the year due to the late emergence and early fall of the leaves. The dioecious (di meaning two and oikos meaning house) portion of the name is because male and female reproductive organs are in separate trees. The common name derives from the pioneers’ use of the seeds as a coffee substitute. Caution — the pods and seeds are poisonous. They contain an alkaloid known as cytisine that may be neutralized in the roasting process. I would not try any beverage derived from the seeds unless you are in the presence of an expert who drinks the first cup.

The seeds, however, are great for kids’ crafts. Local naturalists use them as ornaments for handmade cordage necklaces. They can be painted and used like dried pasta for crafts or as game pieces. You can etch numbers or symbols in them and use them like dice. You can also grow your own saplings from the seeds. I like to carry a few seeds around in my pocket like Captain Queeg with his bearing balls.

The tree is native to eastern North America and once was the state tree of Kentucky. It can easily reach 60 to 75 feet tall with a 40- to 50-foot width. Champion trees can exceed 90 feet. Maryland is currently home to the 106-foot national champion. According to American Forests, the keeper of champion tree statistics, the tree, in Washington County, has a 77-foot crown spread when last measured in 2018. Kentucky coffee trees are ideal for large parcels of land or parks. Fastidious homeowners may wish to avoid these trees because the large leaves and heavy seed pods can be a chore to pick up. In the spring, the flowers are greenish-white, on 8- to 10-inch panicles on female trees.

The bark is rough and furrowed and the tree is disease-resistant, so it has been used to replace elms and ash that have succumbed to infestations. Historically, the tree was often planted around farms and near mines due to its tolerance of poor soil and a wide range of conditions. Perhaps the Cromwell Valley specimens were planted to offset or screen the limestone and marble quarries. This bears further research.

My affinity for these magnificent trees goes back to the last century. As a child, in the ever more distant past, I used to gather Kentucky coffeetree pods from my grandfather’s small yard in Baltimore City just downwind from Pimlico race track. I remember extracting the seeds and getting the pulp all over my hands and clothes. No one ever told me not to eat the seeds. Now I guide my grandchildren in their use making sure no one eats them. We also plant them so my grandchildren will have seeds to play with their grandchildren. Next time you are walking in a cold rain, just imagine Elvis singing accompanied by the rattle of the seedpods.

Carl R. Gold (cgold@carlgoldlaw.com) is a Maryland Master Naturalist and arborist.