The Hearts Of The Forest

Day 309: My heart is in the forest, and if you should doubt that, here is proof in multiple. I had stopped to photograph the guttation droplets being exuded by the fungus as it rid itself of excess moisture following a showery night, but as I viewed the scene through the lens, I noticed that it was heart-shaped. It took a while longer before the Oxalis leaves registered as trios of hearts, I suppose because I'm not one of those people who can readily see galloping horses, elephants or letters of the alphabet in clouds. Only recently as I've pursued watercolour painting have I learned to mute the analytical portion of my brain to let its artistic side express itself. It's not that I lack imagination. It's that I prefer to quantify things with the measurements and details which hopefully will lead me to a Latin name. For now, though, I will choose to interpret these hearts in the forest as a gift, a token of love from Mother Earth.

Oxalis Oregana

Day 163: I hope my readers will bear with me as my ability to find natural-history subject matter of a visual nature is further curtailed by Washington State Governor Jay Inslee's "stay at home" order which, unsurprisingly, no one in this community seems to be obeying except me. Traffic is flowing past my house in both directions: toward the Park and toward the grocery stores. Meanwhile, I've moved my exercise equipment into the back bedroom and have installed daylight LEDs in both floor lamps in order to have enough light to compensate for the need to have one curtain partially closed to obscure the back neighbour's large 2020 presidential campaign banner. Being denied hikes into the deeper recesses of Nature was bad enough without THAT cropping up in my field of view. Enough, Crow. Take a deep breath, focus your mind and talk about Oxalis. They came here for science, the few who show evidence of having brains.

Although the leaves of Oxalis oregana (aka Redwood Sorrel) resemble those of clover, the plants are not related. Oxalis is a member of its own Family (in the taxonomic sense), the Oxalidaceae (Wood Sorrels). The species occurs only in the western United States and British Columbia. Its three heart-shaped, lightly hairy leaflets are photo-sensitive, drooping downward when light levels are high but returning to a more flattened state when shaded. In certain exposures where shade and sunlight alternate by the minute, the change in position occurs quickly enough to be observable by eye. The flowers may be almost entirely white, or may be striped with pink or purple as they are in the photo. The plants associate with Douglas-fir in Washington as well as with the redwoods which give them their common name. Although the leaves were eaten by native peoples, the plant is not considered edible due to the presence of oxalic acid in the tissues.

Oxalis

Day 180: Some people refer to Oxalis (Wood Sorrel) as "shamrock," although the true shamrock of Ireland is a form of clover. The leaf is divided into three lobes, giving the plants the appearance of having three leaves. Oxalis' similarity to clover ends there. The flowers of the two most common species (both native) have five white petals streaked with purplish veins. A third non-native PNW species has yellow flowers and smaller leaves, and tends to be quite aggressive where it occurs. Despite the fact that this plant is classified as edible, consumption is not advised due to the high concentration of oxalic acid in the leaves. Oxalic acid crystals accumulate in the kidneys (i.e., the crystals form kidney-stones).

Today, Everybody's Irish

Day 166: Oxalis is frequently sold at this time of year under the name of "Shamrock," but true shamrocks are a type of clover. Likewise, the "traditional" American dinner of St. Paddy's Day corned beef and cabbage is about as Irish as pierogi or lasagna. But what do we care? On St. Patrick's Day, everybody's Irish...even auld crusty Scots like me. Have a happy St. Pat's!

Just Enough For Dinner

Day 10: A couple of nights ago, I made what was arguably the best meatloaf I've ever prepared. It had just the right amount of sausage mixed with the ground beef, just enough tomato sauce, just enough bay and oregano, and I used old-fashioned slow-cooking oatmeal for the filler instead of bread crumbs, so it turned out light and tender. I've been eating it under ketchup, but tonight, I made it even better by topping it with freshly picked chanterelles done up in a cream sherry sauce, a suggestion which came from a friend who also enjoys these fungal fruits.

I'm a decent cook when I put my mind to it but ordinarily, I consider cooking and eating to be dreadful wastes of time. Tonight, in an unusual departure from form, I savoured my meal. The chanterelles...well, I ate them all. Maybe I should have divided them into two batches because I still have meatloaf in the fridge.

A Ray Of Sunshine

Day 204: Pacific Northwest forests can be very dark places especially when the overstory is tall and dense. At the edge of my property is one such band of woodland, though my portion of it only accounts for a depth of ten feet before you encounter the dilapidated barbed-wire fence which separates it from five acres of thick brush and towering evergreens. The understory in my little strip of woods is full of bedstraw (cleavers), yellow violets, false lily-of-the-valley and oxalis. While none of these is designated a "sun-fleck" species, they benefit from long periods when only slim rays of sun slip between the boughs overhead.

Among the litter of evergreen needles and twigs, dry grass and other withered vegetation, the oxalis' bright eyes open to the sun on those rare days when the sun shines, and nod closed when the clouds gather. Today, they welcomed the shafts of brilliant light, so ephemeral in the Pacific Northwestern spring.