January in Minnesota

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

January in Minnesota and not a flower in sight.  So Kelly flew five hours south to Costa Rica in search of sun, sea, and color. Although January is the early part of the dry season in Costa Rica, there were plenty of flowers and green to counteract the Minnesota white she left behind.  And she learned that, later in the year, 1300 different kinds of orchids will bloom in Costa Rica.  (Minnesota, by comparison, has 49 orchids.) Just as Minnesota’s state flower is an orchid, Costa Rica’s national flower is also an orchid.

In Minnesota coffee beans keep us warm and awake.  In Costa Rica in January Kelly saw the delicate blossoms that will become our precious beans, along with hibiscus, bird of paradise, red ginger, and so many more colorful flowers we have yet to identify.

Flowers are not the only beautiful things to see in Costa Rica.  You could easily mistake a colorful toucan for an elegant flower, and hummingbirds, like flying flowers, are everywhere—50 of the 338 known species of hummingbirds can be found in Costa Rica.

Costa Rica in January is balm for the Minnesota soul.  We are already scheming to take a trip to Costa Rica when we can go together and the orchids will be in bloom.

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

Winter Wishes

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

I keep wanting to write a book called Next Year’s Garden because every garden I plant makes me think, “Next year I’ll do it this way.”  Just as every year offers new opportunities to plant other flowers and vegetables or to try different varieties, so each year of wildflower searching offers new opportunities to see both old favorites and also flowers we haven’t yet encountered.

We know we’ll begin the year in late March or early April with skunk cabbage making its own heat, with snow trilliums blooming through a snowfall, with pasque flowers opening on a high hillside.  We hope to see favorite woodland flowers, prairie flowers, bog flowers.  But we’re eager, too, to see flowers and plants we haven’t seen before.  So here is our wish list for 2019 of flowers so far unseen or as yet unphotographed:

Ball cactus blooming
Brittle cactus blooming
Squirrel corn
Autumn coral root
Striped coral root
Tubercled rein orchid
Glade mallow
Hill’s thistle

Places we want to visit:
Rustic roads in Wisconsin
Clinton Falls Trout Lily Scientific and Natural Area
Ladies Tresses Swamp Scientific and Natural Area
Lawrence Creek Scientific and Natural Area
Iron Springs Scientific and Natural Area
Black Lake Bog Scientific and Natural  Area

No matter how eager we are to start looking, it’s clearly winter outside, and winter has its own beauty, which we’ll enjoy while we wait for the earliest bloomers to show up.

Here’s to a bountiful year of native flowers for us all.

 


Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

A Good Year for Wildflower Searching

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

2018 was a very good year for wildflower searching in many ways. Here are a few of the highlights:

We went to Churchill, Manitoba, on Hudson Bay and saw 100 different native wildflowers in five days including two new orchids, a plethora of blooming butterwort, beluga whales, caribou, endless sunlight, and discovered our new, essential, beloved wardrobe item:  bug shirts.

We finally held our book, Searching for Minnesota’s Native Wildflowers, in our hands –and so did almost 3000 other folks.  The book was ten years in the making, we loved almost every minute of it, and we are still searching for more native wildflowers. We also did lots of bookstore, radio, and television interviews.

We discovered a Rustic Road near Maiden Rock, Wisconsin, along which we saw large flowered trillium, bellwort, Mayapple, cutleaf toothwort, yellow trout lily, Jack in the pulpit, wild ginger, Dutchman’s breeches, sarsaparilla, miterwort, more spring beauty than we’ve ever seen and, high on the hillside, three showy orchis just getting ready to bloom.  A one-stop site for spring wildflower viewing.

After many years of yearning and one hot day of searching on rock outcrops we finally saw ball cactus in western Minnesota (though not in bloom). This coming year we’ll go back to try to catch it blooming.

Thanks to a friend we met at a book signing, we saw purple fringed orchid and incredibly tiny Hudson Bay eyebright along the north shore.  Bonus:  spotted coral root, beach pea, and spurred gentian also in bloom at the same time and place.

So many more memorable moments:  our first trip to the aspen prairie parkland, the fruitless but lovely search for squirrel corn, more western prairie fringed orchid than we’ve ever seen before, several new-to-us orchids for a total (so far) of 32 Minnesota orchids, a floating bog full of grass pink and rose pogonia, sundew blooming, fragrant false indigo, rattlesnake plantain in bloom (!), Indian pipe, nodding ladies tresses blooming, and a gentian hat trick at Iron Horse SNA.

Our hope for the coming year:  that more and more people will learn to love and treasure what we love, Minnesota’s native wildflowers.

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

Dream a little.

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

A few days ago the last of three green ash trees in my front yard had to be cut down.  We had gotten the saplings, slender as whips, years ago as a give-away from Plywood Minnesota. As it turned out, I planted them way too close, and even though they had not yet become infected with green ash borer, they still had to be cut down.  I will plant another, native, tree in their place, but it will take years to grow, and come this spring, my previously shaded front yard will feel the full sun.  All of the shade-tolerant native flowers I’ve planted over the years will need to be dug up and shared with family and friends.

It’s always sad when a tree comes down, but already I’m planning the prairie I’ll plant in place of the woodland. Snow covers the tree stumps where I’m imagining blanket flower, blazing star, Joe pye weed, rattlesnake master, aster, gentian, butterfly weed.  In my mind, signs will tell passers-by the names of the flowers and why they matter:  bees love penstemmon, Monarchs flock to rough blazing star, chickadees eat sunflower seeds, American painted lady butterflies (whose caterpillars devour my pussytoes) feed on narrow leaved coneflower.  Maybe I’ll build a little free library that offers books about prairie and native plants and also little packets of seeds so folks can start their own pockets of native flowers.

Both Kelly and I have shifted over the years from non-native plants to native plants in our yards.  Why not watch the abundance of bees and birds and butterflies that come calling?  When winter locks up the land with not a native flower in sight, why not dream of our own little prairies and woodlands as we wait for snow trilliums and pasque flowers to bloom again?

We do love winter, but we’ll also spend a bit of our snowy time planning how we can bring a few of those native flowers home to our yards and our gardens.  It’s a hope for our yards, for our cities, for our planet, and all of us, animal and plant and human, who share this earth.

Dream a little. And when spring comes again, plant a patch of native flowers.  You and the bees and the butterflies and birds will all be glad you did.

 

Author, Phyllis Root
Photographer, Kelly Povo

Searching for Blue

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

September 16, 2018

On a day when the sunrise lit the pillowed clouds on fire and the sky was turning autumn-blue, we went looking for blue on the ground.  Fall is a time for trees aflame, but the prairie flaunts its colors, too, in the reds and browns and golds of grasses, the whites and blues of asters, the cheery yellow of many kinds of goldenrods, the angular blue blossoms of great blue lobelia. Blue blooms underfoot as well, hidden in the grasses.  Gentians, blue flowers of fall.

Minnesota has several kinds of gentians, and we were looking for four of the more common ones, hoping for at least a hat trick of species:  bottle gentian, fringed, gentian, stiff gentian, downy gentian.  We started at Oronoco Prairie Scientific and Natural Area (SNA), where we’d seen the downy gentians a few years before on the undisturbed part of the prairie, hoping, too, that we might see the federally endangered prairie bush clover we’d read grows in this SNA site. We wandered through the grasses, through flowers still blooming and those gone to seed, soaking up the prairie colors and breezes, but we did not spot any prairie bush clover nor could we find where we had once seen gentians blooming.  Had the grass grown too tall, the goldenrod or sumac too thick?  We didn’t know, but, hungry for gentians, we drove on south to Iron Horse SNA, where we’d also seen gentians in the past.

And here in the low areas near the old railroad embankment we found blue:  bottle gentians still in bloom and some going to seed, stiff gentians pointing their multitude of blossoms at the sky, small fringed gentians most of which had yet to open.  Great Plains ladies’ tresses still held onto a few white blossoms, swamp lousewort had gone to seed, and the spiky seed heads of rattlesnake master dotted the landscape.

No downy gentian (we have a few weeks yet to search), but a day rich in prairie and a gentian hat trick–sun-soaked, satiated, happy, we drove north toward home.

 

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo