First Day of Skunk Cabbage

Happy First Day of Skunk Cabbage! It was yesterday, actually, and was only made possible by a friend inviting me to lunch with her at our favourite Chinese restaurant. I suggested stopping by the bog on the way home, a little out of the way, but a short walk. The Skunk Cabbage was not as dense or as far along as I'd hoped, but it was present, the first I've observed this year. A change in the wind brought the scent to us as we stood on the trail, not daring to go down into the bog where we could see standing water beneath the deceptive mat of old reed-canary grass. The bog is filling in with the invasive grass, as well as blackberry vines, a long and slow process to be sure, and not likely to overtake the swampy ground in my lifetime. For now, the Skunks are there to welcome Spring.

Better Late Than Never

Day 180: Happy First Day of Skunk Cabbage, at least officially, as far as I am concerned. I've seen a few tiny yellow tips prior to this, and have been unwilling to spend $20 on gas to get to my favourite bog just to take one photo, although I'm sure they're in bloom by Swofford Pond. This year's selection came from a small patch on Lillie Dale Road which is largely overgrown with grass. The grass hides extremely soggy ground, so I had to content myself with zooming in for this shot. Even so, the distinctive skunky fragrance (which, incidentally, I find quite enjoyable) filled the air. It wouldn't have been spring without Skunk Cabbage.

First Day Of Skunk Cabbage

Day 154: This is a day of great celebration! Not only is it the First Day of Skunk Cabbage, it was not necessary for me to wade out into the bog at risk of becoming permanently mired in order to get a picture of a perfect specimen. Many of my adventures on this personal holiday have left me mud up to the knees, my boots filled with swamp water, and on one notable occasion, I even fell down, landing on my back in the muck. I have not been savaged by mosquitoes as often as you might suppose, although in some years, they have been vicious. Nevertheless, this is a tradition I have been observing for decades, partly as a nod to my mother who chose Lysichiton americanus as her favourite flower, and partly because to me the plant signifies the beginning of Botany Season. There is no set date for the occasion, other than the fact that it usually occurs in March (rarely February), and is only determined by my own first observation for the year. I usually seek it out as I did today, visiting my "best bog" along the margin of Swofford Pond.

First Day Of Skunk Cabbage, Officially

Day 165: I do hereby officially declare today as the First Day of Skunk Cabbage. I say "officially" because I spotted a single spathe during my hike a week ago, but couldn't get close enough to take a photo. This image comes from my favourite bog on the South Swofford Trail, and I am happy to say that it was much boggier than it's been in several years, so much so that even if I had had my muck boots with me, I would not have ventured any closer for fear of being permanently mired. That said, the official First Day of Skunk Cabbage is a bit late this year, not only for me, but for Lysichiton americanus as well. The flowers are still young and small, and the leaves are barely beginning to show. After visiting the bog, I continued on the trail to its western end, a delightful if somewhat chilly walk in complete solitude with very few sounds penetrating the stillness. That in itself is worth celebrating.

First Day Of Skunk Cabbage Hike

Day 160: I was very concerned that the First Day of Skunk Cabbage was going to slip by without formal observation, but I managed to get out on the South Swofford Trail today to visit my favourite bog. It was wetter than it's been in the last several years, so I kept to dry ground rather than changing into muck boots, and then I continued on to the very end of the trail where I found another Skunk Cabbage bog almost equally as nice. However, once again, the ground was very soupy and I didn't quite reach the bog before deciding I'd better quit while I was ahead. I managed to stay upright for the entire hike which, if memory serves, is something of a record for my early-spring forays into the bogs. Happy First Day of Skunk Cabbage!

First Day Of Skunk Cabbage

Day 150: I thought I knew what day today might be, but in order to confirm my hypothesis, I needed to make a serious Trip Out to visit Ma Nature. Only her phenological calendar could show it for sure. Still, I have been having a run of bad luck/unpleasant events lately, and because I also had in mind a more adventuresome outing than a visit to the bog (American usage, please!), I was a little apprehensive. Would I wind up hurting myself to cap off the series? Or could I possibly break the run by doing something fun and exciting? I was deliberating as I stepped out on the front porch to feel the temperature, and Pacific Wren's long, burbling song came to my ears from the brush pile. That clinched it. Pacific Wren is a trusted advisor, and he had just indicated to me that I needed to spend some time in his woods. I came in and immediately started packing my pack.

I saw no Skunk Cabbage as I drove over the Divide, nothing in any of the usual swampy areas. Maybe I was on a wild skunk chase after all? But as I approached my "best bog" on the South Swofford Trail, I saw a spot of yellow and, minding my footing in the mud as I got closer, a shaft of sunlight fell on a pristine example of my mother's favourite flower. It was indeed the First Day of Skunk Cabbage, a day almost as important to me as September Morn.

Then I started up the hill toward Sulphur Creek Falls. I had archived my last geocache and needed to pull the container. Over the last several years, both natural and human-caused erosion have made this trek even more perilous than before, the "trail" (such as it is, made by deer and elk) crossed by numerous fallen trees and, in the steeper sections, landslides. In fact, I found the cache almost buried by the huge root mass of a tree which had slid down the embankment. I was able to retrieve the container, but only barely.

I made my way back down without incident and then continued on out the South Swofford Trail nearly to its end, where I sat on the corner of a bridge in the company of one small Skunk Cabbage blossom and a horde of Blue Duns (well, that's what we call them in fly-fishing). Then it was back to the car and home, where yet another catastrophe appeared to loom into view, but thanks to Kevin's internet skills, I was able to restore my computer's health by blowing the dust out of the transformer plug. Have I gotten around Murphy's plans for my future? I hope so.