Showing posts with label Giant White Fawn-Lily. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Giant White Fawn-Lily. Show all posts

Thursday, April 11, 2024

Fawn Lily, Erythronium Oregonum


Day 181: In my yard, only the leaves of the Fawn Lilies (Erythronium oregonum) are showing, but on the off chance that they were in bloom at lower elevations, I took a short hike on an obscure trail yesterday. I was delighted to see the usual patch in full bloom, and was even more excited to discover them further along the trail in several places I had not noticed them previously. This raises a question in my mind: why do they not occur in other locations nearby? I have only observed them at this one site, and in a friend's yard where I suspect they were deliberately planted. Even more puzzling is the fact that this particular area has yielded up at least half a dozen plant species I have not observed elsewhere. It is hardly an undisturbed ecology, having been logged at some point in its history. Some combination of soil type, pH, exposure, hydrology and/or other factors make the spot unique. In fact, I stumbled across another new-to-me species yesterday. More on that in a coming post, and after I've taken better photos of it.

Saturday, April 29, 2023

Opening Day


Day 198: The moment for which I have been waiting these last two weeks has finally arrived. The Fawn Lily was not open when I first checked before breakfast, but looked suspiciously close to bursting. At 9 AM, the petals were fully recurved and in full glory. A second bulb has put up a single leaf. I was worried that it might not have survived. Even if it doesn't flower, it will gain strength from that one leaf, and will likely bloom next year. I'm chalking this delicate transplanting operation up as a horticultural success. While we're on that subject, I'm pleased to announce that the last two contorted filbert twigs I soil-layered are also doing well. So is the wild ginger brought over from a neighbouring property. In fact, the latter is spreading with great enthusiasm, a fact which delights me no end.

Friday, April 21, 2023

My Very Own Fawn Lily


Day 190: Keep your fingers crossed! Two years ago, I transplanted two or three Giant Fawn Lily bulbs (Erythronium oregonum) from a piece of public land with no restrictions on gathering it. One was gobbled by a squirrel, and the surviving bulb made a leaf but no flower (or perhaps the squirrel ate the bud). This photo is from a few days ago. Today, the stalk is an inch or so taller and the bud is beginning to nod. I do love it when my horticultural adventures bear fruit!

Sunday, April 24, 2022

Fawn Lilies, Erythronium Oregonum


Day 194: As much as we all love close-ups of lovely wildflowers, sometimes you just have to step back and take in the broader view. The Giant White Fawn Lilies (Erythronium oregonum) are out, and coming on a cluster of them in the deep shade of tall evergreens, one might feel that the faeries were lighting the path with candles, so brightly do their petals shine with the barest touch of sun. Their mottled leaves keep close to the ground, patterned to star as both light and shadow in the springtime play. The population here (a location I will not reveal) is growing. Today, there were hundreds, scattered over an acre or two of woodland knolls. Some set watch on mossy balds, bravely daring human eye to fall upon them; others lurked behind logs, among leaves and ferns, timid and reclusive. Some danced surrounded by Snow Queens as others struggled to raise their heads above debris and thorns. For all this, they are happy here, as evidenced by the increase in their numbers, and I am happy too that I could make my pilgrimage among them in this secret, quite space.

Saturday, March 19, 2022

Success Story


Day 157: All things considered (most notably the 100-degree temps we experienced last June), this counts as a rather remarkable success in my horticultural career. Last spring, I relocated two corms of Erythronium oregonum (Giant White Fawn-lily) to my yard from an area where there are no prohibitions on taking plants. They were plentiful at the site, but even so, I prudently limited myself to two. I chose a spot in the yard as close to their original habitat as possible and they seemed to be doing well until the hot spell hit. The timing could hardly have been worse, and I was fairly certain that neither of them had survived. Imagine my surprise, therefore, when I stepped around the corner of the house this morning and spotted this mottled leaf poking up from the moss!

Friday, March 19, 2021

Giant White Fawn-Lily, Erythronium Oregonum


Day 157: "I bet they're not up yet," I said as I was packing my pack for an impromptu hike in Rimrock County Park on Wednesday. I had been quite surprised when I stumbled across them (almost literally) two years ago. The colony was the first I'd ever encountered, and they were in full bloom at the time. I had to shift gears mentally from my initial, "What are avalanche lilies doing down here?" The flower is quite similar, like a miniature Easter lily: white, six-petalled and nodding. The leaf is striking, mottled brown and green, and undoubtedly the source of one common name, Trout-lily. It's easier to remember than the alternate for Erythronium oregonum, Giant White Fawn-lily. "Giant" is misleading, although this Erythronium is admittedly somewhat (not much) larger than its alpine cousins. A subspecies is found in western Washington, but I have not determined whether these particular plants belong to it...not yet. It will be a few weeks before that little bud opens to reveal clues to its full taxonomy. Like Schwarzenegger said, "I'll be back."

Friday, May 3, 2019

Erythronium Oregonum, Giant White Fawn-Lily



Day 202: Well, I did a double-take. "That's not an Avalanche Lily! What the hell...? Is that a Trout?" In the end, it proved to be Erythronium oreganum, commonly known as Giant White Fawn-Lily, but closely akin to both Avalanche and Trout Lilies and something I had never before seen. I was out on an invasive-plant patrol in the undeveloped Rimrock County Park. It's a lovely place for hiking in solitude, although the peace is frequently broken by the sounds of rifle fire from the local gun club, but I am willing to endure that in order to have the woods to myself. Besides, they're over a hill from the trail system and pose no danger to someone walking on the back side. So, like I said, I did a double-take. The mottled leaves told me it was no Avalanche Lily, nor would I have been likely to find them at such a low elevation. "Trout" and "Fawn" tend to follow some pretty indistinct rules in the application of common names to the Erythroniums, so being a fisherman, those speckly leaves led me to spend the rest of the day saying, "Trouts! I found Trouts!" Well, in between bending over to pull Digitalis and Tansy Ragwort, anyway. A "life list" plant is a pretty good reward for pulling weeds.