Things My Mother Taught Me

Day 264: In a roundabout way, my mother is responsible for instilling in me a preference for Latin names. Y'see, her dad came from the Midwest where a very similar flower to our native Columbia Lily goes by the name of "Turk's-cap." He was ignorant of the distinction between Lilium superbum and Lilium columbianum, and therefore applied the common name to the flowers he saw blooming here. My mother grew up calling Lilium columbianum by the wrong common name, so inevitably, that was what I came to call them as well. I was in my early twenties when I discovered the error, but the name was so deeply ingrained in my memory that I spoke of them as "Turk's-caps" more often than not, backing up to correct myself each time it happened. Then one day, I hit upon a solution to the problem. I had already learned enough about wildflowers to appreciate the value of Latin names to distinctly identify species often covered by a much broader common name (there are dozens of Penstemons, for example), so it was a fairly easy shift to say "Lilium columbianum" for our regionally-unique "tiger-lily."

It is common for Columbia Lily to have 3-5 blossoms per stem, but don't be surprised if you see more. In my own experience with the species, I counted a whopping 13 flowers on a single stalk near Windy Gap, and have seen quite a few "11s" during my career, both in the Park and in Flatland. Lilium columbianum is not selective with regard to altitude. It blooms from sea level through most of the subalpine zone, and shows up just in time to present a botanical fireworks display for the Fourth of July.

Columbia Lily, Lilium Columbianum

Day 250: Following shortly behind Skunk Cabbage in her personal compendium, Columbia Lily was my mother's second favourite flower. There was only one problem: her father had come from the midwest where another similar Lilium was called "Turk's Cap." Consequently, my mother called them Turk's Caps, and by association, I came to call them Turk's Caps as well.

I was in my mid-twenties when I discovered that my mother's colloquial nomenclature was incorrect, and my repeated attempts to remedy her vocabulary were blithely ignored. Grandpa had called them Turk's Caps, and that was good enough for her. On the flip side, I was rather embarrassed that I had played a role in distributing her misinformation to friends, but the only recourse available to me was to stop using the term myself. When something has been ingrained from childhood, this is no easy task! Every year when the Columbia Lilies' freckled faces first pop up along the roadside, I say, "Oh, the Turk's Caps are out!" and then remind myself that mother doesn't always know best.

Mother Isn't Always Right

Day 276: My mother was responsible for instilling a love of botanizing in me, although as a child, I didn't realize how inaccurate her identifications frequently were. I think "Turk's Caps" were one of the first erroneous IDs to come to my attention, and despite numerous attempts to correct her wayward nomenclature, when Columbia Lilies came into bloom, she invariably told me, "The Turk's Caps are out!"

Strangely enough, these "tiger lilies" were among her favourite flowers (second only to Skunk Cabbage). Their flowering season coincided with her birthday, which of course lent them a personalized significance. Her father (my grandpa) had come from the Midwest where a similar, red-flowered variety of Lilium was in fact commonly called Turk's Cap Lily. He transferred the term to Lilium columbianum, and thus it entered my mother's lexicon of inaccuracies. By the time I reached an age to know the difference, I had some serious unlearning to do! To this day, I still occasionally slip and call them "Turk's Caps." Hard fact to face, but it's possible for your mother to be wrong.

Remembering George

Day 274: We called her George. It started when I was about 10 years old, on the occasion of a brutal self-inflicted haircut which left her with a one-inch pigtail in the back. "Mama, you look just like George Washington," I said, and "George" stuck. She was George to my friends, George to her own. Not too many people have a mother named George.

George's favorite flower was Skunk Cabbage, but running a very close second were "Turk's Caps," miscalled because that was how her father referred to them because they looked like the Turk's Caps he knew from the midwest. I grew up calling them "Turk's Caps," and only in adulthood became aware of the error. Even now have to remind myself that they are really Columbia Lilies, the Pacific Northwestern cousin. What the heck, if your mother's name is George, surely a tiger lily by any other name is still a tiger lily.