Fritillaria Meleagris

Day 182: Of the many questions which have arisen during my career as a naturalist and amateur botanist, one resurfaces at this time of year and demands an answer I cannot give: What was Fritillaria meleagris thinking when it got dressed for the garden party? Its checkered gown is one of the most outlandish I've seen on a plant. What fluke of evolution, what survival strategy, what random mutation inspired its choice? Stripes on petals, particularly fine stripes at the heart of the flower, serve as "bee guides," directing pollinators to their work, likewise zonal colouration. Streaks and patches were originally the result of a mosaic virus in tulips, although most of the "broken" colours available today have been selectively bred to ensure the pattern. So why gingham, Fritillaria? There seems to be no advantage to dressing like Dorothy Gale, not from a botanical perspective. You intrigue me, little lily with your bold imagination and complete lack of fashion sense.

Fritillary Lilies

Day 185: Every year when my Fritillary Lilies come into bloom, I ask the same question: what possible genetic advantage does the colouration of the flowers provide? Dear Fritillaria meleagris, WHY? I've never seen insects playing chess or checkers, so you can't be trying to attract pollinators, and I don't know that a gingham bonnet signified that one pioneer woman would make a better mother than another, so you're not displaying a readiness to reproduce. What exactly is going on here?

Whatever the reason for Checkered Lilies' checkerspots, they do amuse me. Mine have been growing and multiplying in the same large flower pot for at least five years, left outside to endure winter temperatures which occasionally dip into the single digits with no loss of bulb strength. They're somewhat crowded in amongst Snowflakes and some errant chives, having compelled a handful of tulips into giving up the fight for space. Like most members of the Lily family, they're at their best for only a short time, but even so, they give me far more enjoyment than a whole bedful of daffodils with their quirky, cocky, checkered bells.

The Bloomin' Garden

Day 177: It seems like every day now, something new opens up in my bloomin' garden. The latest flush includes Snowflakes (Leucojum, not to be confused with Snowdrops which are much shorter and bloom earlier), Checkered/Fritillary Lilies (Fritillaria) and ... now wait a minute! It's been twenty-five years since I planted hyacinths and wrote them off as a bad idea when the mole undermined all of them. How is it, then, that I have one sickly-looking Hyacinth in the front flower bed? I know that some species of plants (notably Phantom Orchids) can remain dormant for decades, but it's not a trait I associate with cultivated varieties. Still, I'll take what I get. I'll mark it and lift it in the fall to give it a better chance of survival.

That said, today's project is to locate some Pixwell gooseberry plants for the Currant Extention. I salvaged one of my old ones, but it wants company. While the berry garden doesn't add much colour to the yard, jams, jellies and frozen fruit sure make winter easier to bear.

The Lily Clan

Day 177: Colour in flowers often provides some visual cue to pollinators, whether as an attractor or as a signpost en route to the reproductive structures. Hummingbirds are famously drawn to blossoms in the red and blue hues (wild currant, delphiniuims) and other plants (Violas, for example) may exhibit fine, dark lines known as "bee guides" on their petals. Blossoms which are zoned like Gazanias could even be likened to a bull's-eye target. That being the case, what strategy governs Fritillaria meleagris (here a commercial cultivar) that it's gone tartan? This one truly puzzles me! As I discovered when sniffing a wild one, this member of the lily family has one of the most unpleasant smells I have ever experienced, rather like a bordello after a busy night. I don't know if the odor has been bred out of the domesticated cultivars; I'm not willing to get that close, not even for the sake of science.

Fritillaria Meleagris

Day 151: The newest addition to my garden is Fritillaria meleagris, also known (for obvious reasons) as "Checkered Lily." While this species is a cultivated import from Europe, it has several cousins native to the state. Fritillaria affinis has smaller flowers and can be found on the prairies of southwest Washington among other locations. It has a scent which I devoutly hope is absent in meleagris, musty and mushroomy, and I do not mean that in a good way. Still, meleagris has such a lovely and unusual flower that even if its fragrance turns out to be less than desirable, it shouldn't be noticeable unless sniffed at close quarters.