More Wildflowers

Today's entry continues with my wildflower outing.  Every year,  my friend, Pat's birding group, for one day, switches its focus from birds to flowers.  This is the second year that Pat has invited me to join the fun. 
The three leaves and petals of Trillium grandiflorum, Large white trillium, greeted our group wherever we looked. Trilliums on the hillside,  

trilliums along the stream . . .

trilliums not yet open,

and trilliums beginning to fade to shades of pink and lavender, first showing dark veins. This, one of the most easily identifiable wildflower has been chosen by the State of Ohio as its state flower.

While there were plenty, the trillium was not the most numerous plant we found.  That award goes to Blue-eyed Mary (Colinsia verna)

Blue-eyed mary, (Collinsia verna)

Though we found some of these members of the figwort family growing individually, the real show was when it grew in mass patches covering a hillside. Look closely at the photo below and you will see the tiny blue and white carpeting the ground in the woods.

  My favorite spot, though was the yard with the dogs.  I don't really like to see dogs attached by chains to their house.  They usually look neglected and lonely.  These dogs undoubtedly were unaware that their small world was surrounded by such beauty.

Many of the plants found this time of year tend toward blues, lavender and white, though there are plenty of exceptions.
Greek valerian, (Polemonium reptan) is one that fits the pattern with its bluish-laventer flowers. 

Don't use the internet to identify this wildflower and don't use your friends. When your friend tells you that Greek valerian is the same as Jacob's ladder (Polemonium van-bruntiae britton) just smile, say thank-you then open a good guidebook There are differences. 
They are both in the same family as Phlox which we saw in yesterday's blog entry. 

Continuing with the with the blue-lavender theme, is Wild geranium (Geranium maculatum), a very common sight in Appalachian woods. 

A new find for me was Persian speedwell (Veronica persica) While many people do not like this plant when it shows up on their lawns, its dainty petals were a sweet treat on our stream bank.

It is so hard to stop but I don't want to keep you too long so just a few more.  First the rich velvet purple of Larkspur (Delphinium)

I think this one is a Delphinium exaltatum, though it could be Delphinium tricorne.  My photo looks like the exaltatum but my book tells me that it doesn't bloom until mid summer.  Perhaps that is because my Flora of West Virginia covers West Virginia and finds the plant only in our mountains. It may bloom sooner in the lowlands of the Ohio River valley. If you know, please tell me in the comments.

I have only one more plant to show you today.  It is the Sessile trillium, (Trillium sessile) often called Toadshade.

Here it is growing beneath the Larkspur. Like other trilliums it has three leaves and each flower has three petals but the Sessile's leaves are more rounded and its flowers don't open all the way up, sitting atop the plant like like a sentry.

Our last and perhaps least plant for today is a Corn salad (Valerianella)

It is not very obvious among the woodland wildflowers. This plant will have a taller flower as it matures.

Today's journey was a long one, but I hope I haven't worn you out. Tomorrow we'll have lunch at Columbine rock then we will look at a few birds.  

See you tomorrow!

Bloomers, Wild and Free

Time moved too quickly as my wildflower bonanza day moved toward its. Happily, the day didn't end before we spotted a lemony bellwort, with petals twisted upon itself in a flower hug.  Below, a spent blossom blows with the breeze.

Just a few feet up the hill from the bellwort was a deep red trillium, Toadshade, Trillium sessile or sessile-flowered wake-robin, nestled among the larkspur. 

The sessile trillium has petals that never really open, remaining vertical almost as if in prayer.

Notice that the flower has no stalk. Hence, the source of its name, "sessile" a word which at one time meant low enough to sit on or sitting on the base. Now, for botanists, it means that a flower or leaf sits right on the base without a stalk.  Supposedly the toadshade smells foul, but I didn't think to smell it at the time.  This was a lifer for me, a first look that wasn't printed on a page.

Morning was over and it was time for our lunch. The Mountwood Bird Club members had a special place planned for our noon meal.  I heard someone say we were eating at "columbine rock." I've seen columbine in the mountains but didn't realize they grew so close to home yet outside of cultivation.  All columbines are a bit wild. We should never become too attached to a particular spot for one. Columbines seem to have a free will, growing wherever they feel so inspired, whether it be in a fertile rose bed or in baked clay between cracks of a sidewalk.  I've learned to  accept this wild child where it offers itself. "Columba" Latin for "dove," columbine flies all over my garden. A common name is "grannies bonnet" but there is nothing common about wild columbine. 

Damp, moss-covered rocks danced with red and yellow flowers. Peanut butter and jelly became a gourmet meal in such a setting.

Our lunch time view was shared with a hillside of giant trilliums, many which had evolved to pink, lilac and maroon as this one below.

They clung to the rocks and tumbled over the hillside amid white violets and spent hepatica.

Lunch in Earth's garden, What a view.

I've saved the best until last - Blue-eyed Mary.  People that know me might think I mean my daughter, but not this time.  Blue-eyed Mary, Collinsia verna, is a small, sweet, violet-like flower cluster.

While sighting a single plant is nice, it is nothing compared to what we saw this day. Thousands and thousands of blue-eyed Marys blanketed the creek bottoms and hillsides, encroaching into people's yards.

Such a subtle color, a mass of pale blue, a giant blue shadow across the hollow.  We saw a farmhous where dog boxes housed hounds held to their tethers in small bare circles amid a sea of blue, perhaps wasted on the poor color-blind hounds.

Our part of the caravan was waylaid by a thrush, specifically a Louisiana waterthrush whose song was heard through an open car window.  I hold it personally (birdally?) responsible for thwarting our effort to see the firepinks in bloom.  I shouldn't have been surprised, though. Afterall, this was a birding club. My ill-trained neck refused to look up any more as we tried to follow the elusive bird from branch to branch, catching bits of its call.  I'm not complaining, though. I was allowed to see a Louisiana waterthrush besides all the wonderful flowers. But, alas, all good things come to an end and this was the end of my Earthday frolic. 

I am glad you were with me to enjoy the wildflowers. I was so lucky to be included in this trip and I thank the Mountwood Bird Club, especially my friend Pat for allowing me to travel with them from river  to hill top.

This is all of the wildflowers but tomorrow I will give you a glimpse of the birds we saw. There are just a few as my lens was usually pointed downward.