Camas Prairie

Day 215: A regional legend tells us that at one time, Mt. Olympus (the highest peak in Washington's Olympic range) had three wives. The youngest was jealous of the other two, and decided to leave. Although she had no idea where she would go, she packed a cedar basket with food for her journey. Among the staples were the roots of the Blue Camas plant (Camassia quamash) which could be boiled or roasted and pounded to make flour. Leaving the Olympic Peninsula, she forged south, and after a few days of travel, she had reached the lower end of Puget Sound. By this time, she was tired and hungry and decided to rest and prepare a meal. As she worked, a few camas bulbs spilled from her basket, unnoticed. The next day, the young wife resumed her travel, eventually arriving at a place she thought would be a suitable home. There, she spread her skirts and settled onto the land to become the peak we now call Mount Rainier. The camas bulbs she had inadvertently left behind multiplied. Now you can see fields of them on the prairies around Yelm.

Cladonias All The Way Down

Day 22: The signature phrase, "It's turtles all the way down" has been attributed to a number of different sources (Bertrand Russell or William James among others) and was popularized by none other than Stephen Hawking in more recent times. It refers to a bit of mythology (again ascribed to various cultures) in which the Earth is described as resting on the back of a huge turtle. The expression results from a confrontation between a cosmologist following his explanation of the nature of the Universe and a member of the audience who puts forth the legend as an alternate theory. When asked what supports the first turtle, the challenger asserts, "Another turtle." The cosmologist then responds, "But what does that turtle stand on?" The reply follows the legend exactly, "Another turtle, of course. It's turtles all the way down."

In the fascinating world of lichens, nothing proves the myth more visibly than the Cladonias. On close examination, it's not hard to find proof that it's Cladonias all the way down. (Cladonia grayi)

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."