Camas Prairies

Day 198: When I tell people that I used to live on one of southwestern Washington's prairies, they look at me with disbelief, perhaps even challenging me by saying, "There aren't any prairies in western Washington!" But they're wrong. South and east of Olympia, there used to be vast open grasslands (the definition of "prairie," incidentally) dotted with wildflowers found nowhere else in the state, including several species of Camassia. Where I lived was a camas prairie, and forty years ago, Camas made a veritable sea of blue of the parts of our acreage which were grassy. Occasionally, a white specimen would crop up...a variant of the same species as the blue...or more rarely, a white Death Camas with its smaller flowers. But we also had timber, and as Doug-firs will do, they shed their cones and new Doug-firs sprouted, expanding their range into our pasture. They never quite took it over, but the Camas didn't like the shade, and fewer and fewer bloomed each year. Sadly, the same thing has happened in much of that area, although I do know a couple of good spots for "Camas watching" even in their reduced range. I visited one of them today, and was happy to see it blue as ever.

Steering Toward Better Blooms

Day 226: Mother Nature had a substantial hand in bringing my flower garden into its best-ever display by providing several days of hard rain right after I'd laid down a thick layer of mixed compost and steer manure. I have to admit I've only made minor soil amendments in past years, and the application of fertilizer was instituted as a last-ditch effort to control the moss which was slowly taking over the flower beds. Almost overnight, I noticed a change in the color of the peonies' foliage, and within a week or ten days, the garden was lushly green. I am being rewarded with larger and more abundant blooms as well as fewer pests, a bonus which can be attributed to the better health of the plants overall. Three bucks! That's all it cost to bring my flowers into vibrant bloom. I should have done this years ago.

Camas, Camassia Quamash

Day 211: A long time ago, Mount Olympus (the peak in the Olympic Range) had two wives. The younger wife was very jealous of the elder wife, and so one day, she decided to leave. She packed for a journey and set out walking south, carrying a basket of edible roots and berries on her back. She travelled down the Peninsula until she came to the bottom of Puget Sound, and then turned eastward but by this time, she was tired and hungry. When she reached the place we now call Yelm, she took her basket off her shoulders and sat down to make herself a meal. When she was done, she started walking again, but she left behind a few bulbs of the blue Camas. From those few bulbs came the Camas prairies of southwest Washington. The jealous wife walked and walked, and eventually came to a beautiful, wide-open meadow. "This is where I want to make my home," she said, and there, she spread her skirts and sat down to stay. Today, we know Mount Olympus' jealous wife by another name. We call her Mount Rainier.

This traditional story is one of my favourites. I had never seen Blue Camas until I moved to the prairie as a young married woman. Every time I see the fields turn blue in the early spring, I think of Mount Rainier's journey to her present home.

Camas, Mount Rainier's Gift

Day 222: Several varieties of native Camas grow on the prairies of southwestern Washington where they were a dietary staple for the indigenous people, and when I lived on the prairie, I looked forward to seeing their blue flowers rising above the early spring grass each year. However, once you get away from the lowlands, you do not see them, so I purchased a a dozen bulbs at my favorite nursery and added them to my flowerbed. They have multiplied quite nicely, and now I have a dense patch about two feet in diameter.

Legend tells us that Mount Olympus (the highest peak in Washington's Olympic Mountains) had two wives, one of whom was very jealous of the other. One day, she decided to leave. She packed a basket with foodstuffs and set out walking. By the time she reached southwest Washington, she was tired and hungry, so she rested there for a while and ate. When she started on her way again, she left behind a few bulbs of Camas. That was how the Camas prairies came to be. As for the jealous wife, she continued inland until she found a spot where she wanted to make her home. She spread out her skirts and settled there, and today, we call the jealous wife by the name of "Mount Rainier."