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 137: Happy First Day of Skunk Cabbage! I thought I might be a bit ahead of the calendar since this event usually occurs in mid-March, but the swamp behind Swofford Pond served up about two dozen fully open spathes. Lots more were just poking through and I had to be very careful where I put my feet as I made my way across from firm spot to firm spot. Having achieved my primary goal for the day, I then went on to hike two of Cowlitz Wildlife's nature trails in the area for a total of roughly four miles, searching for lichens and fungi. It was a productive day, although now I'm faced with the task of identifying species, several of which did not leap out of the field guides on the first pass. That said, life would be rather boring if I had no botanical puzzles to attempt to solve.

Bog Naturalist

Day 170: "And here we have a specimen of Physicus palustris, the Bog Naturalist, drawn out by warm spring temperatures and the scent of Skunk Cabbage." Yep, the pull was more than I could stand. I've been thinking about visiting my favourite bog near Swofford Pond for the last couple of weeks, not wanting to be too early or too late for the best flowers, and apparently I timed it just right. The bog was rather drier than usual, although still tricky to navigate without sinking in, but at least this year, I didn't fall over or lose a boot to the mud, both consequences I've suffered in past years. The Skunks were somewhat smaller than normal (probably a consequence of the drier soil), but abundant. I could hear frogs, but search as I might, I never saw one. They fell silent at my footfall before I could get close. I spent half an hour in the bog, then went on to another adventure: seeking out invasives in a new location. That too was productive, if perhaps not as gratifying.

First Day Of Skunk Cabbage

Day 146: Happy First Day of Skunk Cabbage to all my readers! Okay, it's a rather sad offering, but considering the fact that in two hours, four inches of new snow fell in my yard (and it's still coming down as I write this), I'll take whatever I can get. Some of you may recall that the First Day of Skunk Cabbage is one of the important dates on my personal calendar. It's a moveable feast for obvious reasons, but seldom has it occurred quite this early. Since it is dependent on the timing of my own first observation of Lysichiton americanus, a lot of different factors come into play. If it hadn't been that I had an appoinment for a hair cut this morning, it could well have occurred next week instead. I braved the snow to venture into Flatland and, since I was already out, decided to check my Nisqually Land Trust beat. The compulsive litterer had been at it again, leaving me at least one full pickup-load of construction debris. Feeling rather downhearted by the find, I started home via a different route, and was passing alongside a debris-filled ditch when a wink of yellow caught the tail of my eye. A quarter of a mile later, I found a wide spot in which to reverse direction safely. Yes! There were my beloved Skunks, putting in their first appearance of the year. The sight of them turned my mood around. Spring is here, snow or no.

Swamp-Stomping And Bog-Slogging

Day 153: Happy First Day of Skunk Cabbage! Here we see the world's only known specimen of Corvus minimus in its natural habitat. This rare and endangered creature is likely to emerge from winter dormancy in early to mid-March at which time it seeks out the Pacific Northwest's famous Yellow Skunk Cabbage (Lysichiton americanus). The importance of this springtime ritual is thought to be deeply rooted in Corvus' DNA, a genetic code which specialists believe is carried in the maternal line. The function of the ritual is not known, but invariably includes wallowing in mud and sacrificing blood to early mosquitoes. Today's sighting occurred near Swofford Pond in Lewis County WA, repeating the pattern of the last several years. One might conclude that the abundant and pungent fragrance of Skunk Cabbage from this particular area acts as an irresistible lure for the swamp-stomping, bog-slogging corvid.

Unexpected Lesson

Day 164: Yesterday as I was reading "Las Flores" (a juvenile book in Heinemann's "Lee y aprende" series), I was surprised by a photo of Skunk Cabbage in the section on scents. "But are there flowers that stink like skunks? In the United States, they call these 'Skunk Cabbage.'" Of course this has to be a literal translation of the plant's common name since they undoubtedly don't grow in the hotter climates where Spanish is spoken, and it certainly wasn't a term covered by any of my dictionaries, so I was delighted to find a way to refer to it. It was one of the things which ran through my mind while I was exploring my favourite bog.

DuoLingo (an on-line language tutor) focuses primarily on grammar, but unfortunately centers around a vocabulary rather alien to my way of life: relationships and social activities. My personal Spanish vocabulary is much larger because I have read books like "Las Flores." I can talk about stamens and pollen and seeds, none of which are within DuoLingo's database. Likewise from my Mega Enciclopedias, I know the names of animals and birds and could discuss their habitats and the threats they face with the same ease that I can translate Duo's social scenarios. Unfortunately, the "science" section in Duo is very near the end of the Spanish lessons, and to get to it, I have to pass through "feelings," "sport," "business," "spiritual,"  and "politics," none of which hold the least bit of interest for me. I am currently at 49% proficiency (the highest score Duo awards is 50-60%), so I am not sure where I will go from here.

First Day Of Skunk Cabbage

Day 156: Besides being St. Patrick's Day and in my book more importantly, yesterday proved to be the First Day of Skunk Cabbage. As many of you know, this is one of my annual celebrations. This Arum was my mother's favourite flower, and when it came into bloom each spring, she would pick a single blossom and put it in a vase in the center of the dining room table. Its odor is reminiscent of the animal which gives it its common name, but that was no deterrent. In fact, once you have become accustomed to it, it speaks of clean air. Putting aside my mother's custom of plucking the flower, I begin watching the bogs in late February despite not expecting to see yellow until mid-March, but when the first blooms appear, I go hunting with my camera. Yesterday's local specimens were still quite small, so another foray will be in order to a favourite spot by Swofford Pond, this time with rubber boots instead of trainers. Ah, but the sacrifice was worth it to celebrate the First Day of Skunk Cabbage! Happy Spring!

Down In The Swamp

Day 146:  In need of something to occupy my thoughts and energies, I went out searching for subject matter to honour the First Day of Skunk Cabbage, and found it behind Swofford Pond. Never mind that the weather was a bit inclement; I had Purpose, and that is not to be denied. There I was, in my knee-high muck boots midway across the bog setting up the tripod when the cloudburst arrived. It had been a tricky crossing, swamps being what they are, filled with spots which look like solid ground but aren't, so a hasty retreat to the cover of a large cedar tree a hundred feet away was not an option. Hoping that the squall would pass, I shielded the lens with my hands and continued my work. The rain pounded down, but at last I was satisfied that I'd gotten a good angle on Uncle Skunk and made my way back across mossy logs and islands of bunched sticks, stepping gingerly as I assessed my footing. The potential for mishap was high, but none occurred, and predictably, just as I reached the shelter of the car, the canopy of cloud opened to reveal blue sky. Such is the work of a naturalist, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Postcard Skunk Cabbage

Day 168: Every year, I have to get one "postcard" shot of Skunk Cabbage. This year's specimen comes from Eatonville, found alongside the Pack Forest extension of the Bud Blancher Trail. Surprisingly, the site isn't particularly boggy, but rather is in the gravelly bed of an intermittent stream. The plants aren't as large as those found in swampier areas, but nevertheless seem quite healthy.

My fondness for this showy Arum was certainly instilled at an early age. It was my mother's favourite flower. Every spring, she would pick one early blossom, setting it in a vase to infuse the air with its unmistakable odor, a scent many people find too "skunky" to bear. I do not find it offensive, although I will admit it is a learned tolerance. In fact, when I walk through a bog filled with Skunk Cabbages, the air I breathe seems clean above the musky note; purer, if odiferous. Nor is there any mistaking the visual freshness of a sea of chartreuse-green leaves and yellow spathes. For all of its scent, Skunk Cabbage is a merry plant, massed in shadowy forest bogs.

Moveable Feast

Day 149: I did not know today was a holiday until I went for a walk on Eatonville's Bud Blancher Trail. You see, the First Day of Skunk Cabbage falls under the category of "moveable feasts," annual events which do not occur on the same day every year. It follows no preordained cycle; it simply happens when it happens, and may occur on a different date for you than it does for me. In any case, it is one of the major festivals of my personal calendar, even when it takes me by surprise.

With the Pacific Northwest's exceptionally warm winter, I've been watching for Skunks since late February even though I've never seen them earlier than the second week of March. Usually, they show up between the 14th and 21st in their customary locations. In fact, I haven't seen any in the usual spots yet, only two tucked away beside the trail where a small and rapidly diminishing stream trickles down from Pack Forest. It doesn't matter. Even one is enough to declare the official First Day of Skunk Cabbage can be celebrated!

First Day Of Skunk Cabbage

Day 160: In my personal almanac, the First Day of Skunk Cabbage is one of the most major events of the year. It's a "moveable feast," arriving with an element of surprise when I see the first glimmer of yellow in the roadside bogs.

Y'see, Skunk Cabbage was my mother's favorite flower, and each spring, she would cut a single spathe, place it in a vase and allow its unique odor to permeate the house. There's a reason they call it "Skunk Cabbage," and trust me, one was plenty for my young nose. Later in life, I learned that the roots were edible (if perhaps a little too high in oxalic acid to be good for you in quantity) and in fact, I used to prepare the tuber like zucchini, adding tomatoes and onions for a medley. Perhaps that helped me accustom myself to the odor. While I still regard it as "skunky," it no longer offends my olfactory sensibilities as it once did.

Gustatorial adventures aside, Skunk Cabbage announces spring more surely for me than any field of daffodils or drift of crocuses. Spring, my friends, is truly here!