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Part 1 of a series celebrating Spring wildflowers on Fidalgo Island, Washington. * 1. The Satin-flower (Olsynium douglasii). * The flower show that I look forward to every winter isn’t at a convention center in a major city. It’s entirely local – not quite in my backyard but close to it. Our winter is chilly, damp, and rather dark. We don’t contend with deep freezes like other regions – in fact, the winter landscape is almost verdant with evergreens – trees, shrubs, even hardy ferns are green all year. But trust me, dragging through week after week of gray, 40-degree days wears people down. One almost wishes for a blizzard to break the tedium. A flower show would do… But I console myself by bundling up and taking walks. I suss out interesting compositions involving a slice or two of light amidst the prevailing dark. I dig deep into it and begin to appreciate the Northwest gloom even as I long for spring and wonder when I’ll see the first subtle signs that say the parade is just around the corner. Then, late in January, signs begin to appear – buds swell, licorice ferns spring to life, and the earliest leaves surface amidst winter’s detritus. * 2. January 28th: Licorice ferns and lichens, Oregon grape buds, a wildflower’s first leaves. * I grow more impatient. Two weeks later the miracle materializes: on the tenth of February the first tender wildflowers grace an island meadow. A perfect raised cup of celebratory, satin-purple petals. I feast. Unarmored against frigid winds or late snowstorms, the delicate Satinflower sparks cold meadows alive. It almost breaks my heart – such joy after the long, dark winter. * 3. February 10th: the first Satinflowers. * My eyes light up like the light gathering outside. Days are lengthening, temperatures are rising, and soon, down at the beach tough leaves are bursting through gray piles of winter’s storm-tossed driftwood. In the forested wetland, Swamp lanterns poke their yellow dunce-capped heads through the fertile muck. I know it in my bones now: life is moving inexorably forward. The (Wild)flower show is getting underway. * 4. March 2nd: the first Red-flowering currant bud debuts. * March began with a thrilling frisson of intense color: the Red-flowering currant (Ribes sanguineum). Show me one bud on a currant bush and I’m pumped! The same day I saw the first Red currant bud, there were clusters of fat yellow Oregon grape buds (Berberis aquifolium) and tiny Soopolallie (Shepherdia canadensis) flowers, a boon for early insects. After a cool start to the year, the wildflower parade was slow to begin but that suits me fine: more time to enjoy it! On the 14th, just before the Ides of March, I saw a surprising observation on iNaturalist: someone identified a patch of Satin-flowers in Washington Park. I know that park pretty well and I never saw Satin-flowers there. I had to see them for myself! The coordinates that were given weren’t very accurate. Plugging the latitude and longitude into my phone, I found myself in the approximate location but the habitat was all wrong – I was deep in a wooded ravine, not an agreeable spot for a grassy meadow denizen. Looking around, I thought a patch of meadow should be just above me and to the east. After a little bushwacking and a leg-stretching climb up a rock ledge, I emerged into the perfect environment and there they were, a little enclave of purple beauties, nodding their heads in the updraft emanating from the tidal channel below. On that chilly spring afternoon I was in heaven. I sat in the grass and communed. * 5. March 14th: Washington Park Satin flowers. * Toward the end of March, the pace picked up. Red currant bushes flowered exuberantly – one twig snagged a tangle of Lace lichen and waved it around like ragged laundry. Golden Swamp lanterns (Lysichiton americanus) lit up the forested wetland and in the rocky bluffs overlooking the water, tiny, violet-blue flowers huddled together against the air’s chill. The Small-flowered Blue-eyed Mary (Collinsia parviflora), dwarfed by its own name, has a sweet face almost no one sees – the flowers are only a few millimeters across. A thousand feet above sea level, more Satin flowers dotted another meadow, this one featuring views of distant mountain ranges. Sugarloaf’s vistas are exhilarating but I was content to lie down on the earth and photograph flowers inches away from my nose. At about half that elevation, another meadow bore the red-orange revelation of a shaggy flower called Harsh paintbrush (Castilleja hispida). Bitter cherry trees flowered gently, softening the roadsides. Cheerful yellow Spring-gold (Lomatium utriculatum) hugged the ground and willow trees went fuzzy-crazy. Up on Goose Rock, the dangling pink bells of Kinnickinnnick glowed pink against the native ground cover’s glossy, deep green foliage. The show was on but it required a little effort – a hike here, a deep knee bend there, and always, open eyes. * 6. March in the forest means masses of mosses. Near the water, a rain-soaked meadow was just beginning to green up. * All month, colors could be found in the details but the landscape overall remained subdued. Low temperatures lingered, clouds persisted, and it rained. And rained again. Weather forecasters bemoaned the cool, damp conditions but I was happy. Cool and wet means the (Wild)flower show lasts longer. Below is a slideshow of my March Madness. Hover over the arrow and click to start. * * If you’re curious about any of the flowers in the slideshow, just ask in the comments section. Next up will be April, a (Wild)flower show to delight the senses. ***
Part 1 of a series celebrating Spring wildflowers on Fidalgo Island, Washington. * 1. The Satin-flower ( Olsynium douglasii ). * The flower show that I look forward to every winter isn’t at a convention center in a major city. It’s entirely local – not quite in my backyard but close to it. Our winter is chilly, damp, and rather dark. We don’t contend with deep freezes like other regions – in fact, the winter landscape is almost verdant with evergreens – trees, shrubs, even hardy ferns are green all year. But trust me, dragging through week after week of gray, 40-degree days wears people down. One almost wishes for a blizzard to break the tedium. A flower show would do… But I console myself by bundling up and taking walks. I suss out interesting compositions involving a slice or two of light amidst the prevailing dark. I dig deep into it and begin to appreciate the Northwest gloom even as I long for spring and wonder when I’ll see the first subtle signs that say the parade i...
part 1of a series
Part 1 of a series celebrating Spring wildflowers on Fidalgo Island, Washington. * 1. The Satin-flower ( Olsynium douglasii ). * The flower show that I look forward to every winter isn’t at a convention center in a major city. It’s entirely local – not quite in my backyard but close to it. Our winter is chilly, damp, and rather dark. We don’t contend with deep freezes like other regions – in fact, the winter landscape is almost verdant with evergreens – trees, shrubs, even hardy ferns are green all year. But trust me, dragging through week after week of gray, 40-degree days wears people down. One almost wishes for a blizzard to break the tedium. A flower show would do… But I console myself by bundling up and taking walks. I suss out interesting compositions involving a slice or two of light amidst the prevailing dark. I dig deep into it and begin to appreciate the Northwest gloom even as I long for spring and wonder when I’ll see the first subtle signs that say the parade i...