Snow Queens

Day 185: Another early-season favourite from the Rimrocks trail is Veronica regina-nivalis, aka Snow Queens. They're located within easy distance of parking, which saves me having to hike three miles in Pack Forest to see them in the first place I discovered them. Formerly known as Synthyris reniformis ("reniform" referring to the kidney-shaped foliage), these dainty clusters of flowers have two purple anthers peeking out of each bell. They are easy to miss in the shady, moist habitat they prefer, often barely rising above a carpet of moss or other vegetation. Unless you live in the Pacific Northwest (for this discussion, that includes northern California), you will probably be unfamiliar with this native plant.

Snow Queens, Veronica Regina-nivalis

Day 194: Spring isn't complete without Snow Queens, and now I have several locations for them on my mental map which don't involve a six-mile hike. In fact, these were less than half a mile from the road, keeping company with the Fawn Lilies. This early spring bloomer is a relatively small plant, standing no more than four inches high from ground level to the top of the inflorescence. The reniform (kidney-shaped) leaves are frequently concealed by moss or other vegetation and easy to overlook. One of the most striking features of the blossoms is their purple anthers, appearing in pairs like two eyes peeping out from the center of the flower. In mature specimens, this colour may not be observable due to pollen development. The taxonomy of this plant is in flux. It was formerly known as Synthyris reniformis. The Burke Herbarium lists it as Veronica regina-nivalis, the term I will apply here.

Snow Queens, Veronica Regina-Nivalis

Day 158: Okay, that does it. Who spilled their coffee in the DNA sequencer? Snow Queens have been reclassified into the Speedwells as Veronica regina-nivalis, and that's just since I got my latest edition of Hitchcock where it's still listed as Synthyris reniformis. That's not the first sticky-note I've put in Hitchcock's index, and I can guarantee that if the taxonomists have their way, there will be a lot more before the next edition is released. Now I am tasked with remembering the "Veronica" portion of the Latin. "Regina-nivalis" is easy. It means "queen of snow." I s'pose I'll have to take to addressing this early bloomer as "Queen Veronica" when I meet her in the woods. That said, it was not necessary for me to make a six-mile trek to reach Snow Queens this year. As luck would have it, Rimrock County Park is full of them, starting only a hundred yards up the trail, as I discovered when hiking there on Wednesday. I do enjoy seeing this lowland plant with its purple anthers peeking out from a bell of pale lavender petals. I think of them as the eyes of curious faeries, watching the human who has intruded into their woodland to be sure she does no harm. One of the first flowers to emerge in spring, Snow Queens outpaces even Cardamine and Trillium, if perhaps running head to head with Skunk Cabbage. It is this phenology which pulls me out of my bear-den each year, anxious to celebrate my floral friends' emergence from their winter naps.

Queens For A Day

Day 129: When I am out hiking, I set goals for myself, whether it's to reach the top of the next rise, make it to a specific destination point, or simply to check on the status of a plant. That's not to say I could file a detailed flight plan and indeed, I often don't know where I'm headed until my car finds its way to a parking area seemingly independently of any particular thought process on my part, and sometimes even then, I have no specific goal in mind until my feet begin striking the earth. I left home yesterday with nothing more than a desire to be Out for as many miles as chilly temperatures would allow, and I wound up at Pack Forest with visions of Snow Queens dancing in my head. That would take me three miles (one way), leaving plenty of time to be down before the sun dipped low in the sky. I wasn't even sure Synthyris reniformis would be in bloom in February, but checking on them was all the motivation I required. Enter now a handful of circumstances designed to throw a monkey wrench into the proverbial works. Less than three-quarters of a mile in, I knelt down to examine a lichen and found my first Snow Queens in an unexpected spot. Suddenly, my proposed work here was done. I'd got what I came for, so now what? I hadn't even reached the first junction where I'd could choose from a variety of new destinations. Then a second factor intruded into the plan: trail repair and a reroute. Now I was curious about what else might have been done further up toward Hugo Peak. At Hugo, I found a new side trail which begged to be explored. Once done there, more choices offered themselves: go back the way I'd come, walk down the main road to Kirkland Pass, there to go either down the 1000 Rd. to parking or take a side trip to see if the Snow Queens were in bloom where I knew they occurred. I might have rambled even longer but for the fact that I spoke at length with another hiker and then again with an old friend, so that when I arrived at the Snow Queens, the sun was already slanting sharply through the trees and taking on the gold hue of late afternoon. It was time to go home, and I beat-feeted it down, hands in mittens inside my pockets, happy that I'd achieved all my goals, even the hastily developed ones. That's how I hike. I go until I'm "halfway," and then return. That's my Plan.

A New View

Day 128: The overhead went an odd colour overnight, so I decided I needed to get closer to it to see if I could figure out what had happened. Since I can't get into the Park (the road won't be fixed until at least mid-March), the next best option was the summit of Hugo Peak. Never mind that the frost hadn't disappeared (and wouldn't do so all day). A hike was definitely in order. My first surprise came roughly three-quarters of a mile up from parking. The trail had been rerouted to make a longer, lazier ascent through what had previously been a rather unpleasant section. A little further on, I noticed more evidence that Pack Forest's trail crew had been at work. The old fence-wire clad footlogs had been removed from a particularly wet portion of the trail, gravel had been put down and a new puncheon bridge allowed passage over rechannelled runoff. By the time I got to the top of Hugo, I'd counted at least six places where the trail had been refurbished or rerouted. All the nastiest sections were gone! But an even more substantial surprise came when I turned away from the overgrown, brushy view of Eatonville a thousand feet below. A small yellow diamond bore the magic-marker legend, "Viewpoint 0.15 mi." and indicated an entirely new trail which sloped away to the east. At its end, I found this view, still somewhat obscured but a vast improvement on that offered on top of Hugo. There was one more surprise awaiting me, and it was the best of all. En route to a corner where I hoped to find Snow Queens in bloom, I ran into an old friend, my former supervisor from my Carbon River days. Our paths have crossed a few times over the years, but oddly, never on the trail. We chatted until we both started shivering in the rapidly cooling afternoon, and then went our separate ways, John and his dogs to his home, me to find the Snow Queens. I did, although the highlight of discovering them was overshadowed by the other events of the day.

Beautiful Snow Queens

Day 160: I first encountered Snow Queens (Synthyris reniformis) in Pack Forest half a dozen years ago, and every year since, I've made a point to visit the same site as soon as I think they might have emerged. They flower in the early season, although their blooming period is fairly long and it's possible you'll find them in shady, cool spots later in the year. I've even seen them as late as August when conditions are ideal. While their colour can vary from white to a rich lavender, their most striking feature is a pair of purple anthers which peek out from the frame of petals, rather outsized for the diminutive blossoms. This little plant is easy to miss, the flower spike standing only a few inches above ground-level, kidney-shaped leaves tinged with red; so easy to miss, I might add, that on the way back to the car, I was surprised to find another patch of them less than a mile from the trailhead. I'd walked right past them in the morning.

Snow Queens

Day 149: And here's what inspired me to yesterday's hike: Snow Queens (Synthyris reniformis, aka Spring Queens). Snow Queens are one of the first flowers to emerge, and although they aren't particularly uncommon, I only know a couple of locations where they grow. They're easy to miss because their leaves are close to the ground and the flowering stems only stand a few inches high, plus they tend to prefer dappled light and appear beneath other taller plants (at least in Pack Forest). Each individual flower has two purple anthers, rather outsized for the white-lavender bell surrounding them. They look for all the world like two little purple eyes. The leaves are kidney-shaped ("reniformis" means "shaped like a kidney") and are lightly hairy. Who else do you know who'd hike 11 miles to take a picture of a three-inch tall flower?

Snow Queens, Synthyris Reniformis

Day 180: A wildflower of the low-elevation forest, Synthyris reniformis (Snow Queens) emerges in early to mid-Spring. Less than six inches tall, this plant's scalloped basal leaves and hairy stems are distinctive, as are its pale lavender flowers, each of which bears two purple-tipped stamens. In Pack Forest, it can be found growing in the disturbed soil at the edges of roads and trails.

Snow Queens, Synthyris Reniformis

Day 171: Early emergers, the dainty and delicate Snow Queen favours the margins of lowland forest, its bell-shaped lavender flowers often paling to nearly white, bearing a pair of dark purple stamens. Its leaves (not shown in this image) are heart-shaped with lightly scalloped edges.

While walking the Yelm-Tenino Trail today, I discovered a streak (for lack of a better word) of Synthyris extending about twenty feet long by five feet wide between a narrow band of evergreens and a horse pasture. A patrol of ten yards beyond either end of the patch yielded up no other specimens of the plant, and I did not observe them anywhere else along the trail. I suspect the availability of natural fertilizer may have played a role in encouraging their growth in this area.