Don't Listen To Your Mother

Day 267: No matter what they tell you, there are times when you shouldn't listen to your mother. I grew up calling this lovely, showy wildflower by the name my mother used, and she called it by the wrong name because my grandfather had done so. Y'see, in the MidWest, there is a similar but redder lily known commonly as "Turk's Caps." My grandpa spent a large portion of his life in the MidWest and although he was an educated man, he assumed that Lilium columbianum was one and the same with Lilium superbum. They were "Turk's Caps" to him and, by default, also to my mother. I always figured she knew the right of it because it was one of her favorite wildflowers, lighting its tall orange candles in honor of her birthday. It never occurred to me that she could be wrong about something as important as that.

However, the misnomer perpetuated in my family like a hand-me-down sweater, and I grew up calling them "Turk's Caps" until I began studying our native flora and discovered that L. columbianum was the local variety. It is known in many field guides as "Columbia Lily." A few references simply call it "Tiger Lily," extending the nomenclature from the garden to the wild. It deserves better than that.

I've learned to call it by its proper name, at least most of the time. Occasionally, I slip. Old habits die hard, and I had a good twenty years of thinking Joe was really Fred.

Feeding Time

Day 266: It's that time of the year again! The little "gilligans" are starting to poke their noses out the doors, getting their first glimpses of the Big Wide World. It won't be long before Mom begins tempting them toward their first flights by holding a bug just out of reach. For now, she and Dad are still catering meals.

For some time, I've been hearing lots of rustling and twittering inside the House of Chirp, as this favorite nesting box is known. Several other houses are also occupied, but this one is always the first to rent out. The side unit is purely decorative, too small even for a mother-in-law cottage.

"'Gilligans?' Is that the correct term?" I knew you'd ask, but no. The first year they nested here, my playful name for one of them stuck. They've been "gilligans" ever since, and a cuter batch you'll seldom see.

Beneath The Cow Parsnips

Day 265: Cow Parsnip is a plant of conflicts. Although contact with it can cause a rash and/or blisters to form on the skin, it is edible, although anyone harvesting it must take extreme care because it is easily confused with Poison Hemlock. A common plant in marshy areas, it may grow up to ten feet in height. Seen here as an isolated specimen growing alongside the Chehalis-Western bike trail, it is not particularly invasive.

Pacific Ninebark, Physocarpus Capitatus

Day 264: Ninebark (Physocarpus capitatus) is aptly named. In Lewis and Clark's day, it was called "Sevenbark," but regardless of which term is employed, twenty or more layers of parchment-thin brownish red bark can be peeled away layer by layer from a mature twig no more than 3/8" in diameter. The wood of the stems is very supple and flexible and was employed by Native peoples in the Pacific Northwest to make fish spears and toy bows for children. The flowers generally appear in rounded umbels and appear in profusion on trees which may grow up to twelve feet in height. It is a medicinal plant; tea made from the bark is a purgative.

Identified as Opulaster opulifolius in older texts, Ninebark is a prime example of the mutability of taxonomy which is the bane of all naturalists.

Common Monkey Flower, Mimulus Guttatus

Day 263: Monkey Flower, so named for the appearance of its "face," grows in a variety of wetland environments. Mimulus guttatus (shown here) is a denizen of ditches and seeps within the range of low to middle elevations. There are several yellow species with varying concentrations of spots. A pink species (Mimulus lewisii) is common in Mount Rainier National Park. Monkey Flowers are "ticklish" to some degree, and if the stigmas are touched gently with a blade of grass or other prod, they will contract. Insects beware! Although not carnivorous plants, insects do become trapped in the flower throats.

Trifolium Arvense, Haresfoot Clover

Day 262: Little Haresfoot Clover (Trifolium arvense) is a European invader. You might want to think of it as the Luxembourgian Armada since it really poses very little threat in terms of effecting a successful coup d'etat. It forms its ranks in disturbed ground, i.e., alongside roads and man-made trails, and spends more time in strategic conferences than it does in actual maneuvers. Its armies are not Napoleon's, but rather those of some ineffectual duke with an ample coffer and a longing for the toy soldiers of his youth.

Go Out

Day 261: Sunrise. Without a doubt, it is my favorite time of the day regardless of the season. It is rare that I am not up to observe it, whether it marches into the sky with fanfare or seeps into the grey sea in the manner of a stream piercing the ocean's vastness. The rising of the light, however faint, brings with it a restoration of spirit and a sense of connectedness with the things of Nature.

The pasture has gone wild with July fever now, its grasses burdened o'mornings with unseasonally heavy dew; yet they stretch their arms above the tall daisies, seeking ultimate dominion of the land.

"I only went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in." ~~John Muir