Marsh Marigolds

Day 260: I will make no attempt to justify the common name "Marsh Marigold" as it applies to Caltha leptosepala, but one source suggests that "marigold" derives from the expression "mare's-galls" and refers to the gall-like shape of the buds. That said, the plant is not even remotely akin to garden marigolds (Tagetes). It doesn't even belong to the same taxonomic family (Tagetes is in Asteraceae, Caltha in Ranunculaceae). "Marsh" is accurate; it is a denizen of wet pockets and seeps in the subalpine areas of the Pacific Northwest. The newly emerging buds exhibit brownish-pink petals on the exterior, a colour which persists on the adult flower, although this tinting is not readily apparent in a top view. To me, Marsh Marigolds are one of the species most evocative of mountain meadows, moreso even than Western Anemones or Avalanche Lilies, and perhaps rivalled in my mental accounting only by Bog Gentian. They always make me smile.

Sickletop Lousewort, Pedicularis Racemosa

Day 288: I find the Louseworts to be intriguing for the wide range of flower shapes exhibited within the genus. Some are vaguely reminiscent of snapdragons. Some are beaked, including one which takes it so far to the extreme that the flower resembles a tiny purple elephant face, the trunk curving gently upward. Sickletop puts me in mind of a poem from my childhood: "There was a little girl / Who had a little curl / Right in the middle of her forehead. / When she was good / She was very, very good / But when she was bad / She was horrid." Sweet Sickletop, of course, is the good girl in the verse, and I've never seen her naughty. In fact, she's rather shy, nodding beneath her leaves when other Louseworts show off their flowers on a spike. Eight species of Pedicularis can be found in Mount Rainier National Park. Look for them in subalpine meadows.