#wildflowerwomen – Flower Chasers

The Unexpected Orchid

July 24, 2026

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

For some wildflower chases that we go on we might not know exactly what we’ll find, or whether the flowers (if we do find them) will be freshly blooming. For other wildflowers chases we go with coordinates that we’ve researched, information from friends, a fairly precise idea of where we might find what we’re looking for.

Either way, we know that wildflowers don’t keep an exact calendar. What we see at a certain time one year may not be blooming yet the following year or may have already gone to seed. We know, too, that the flowers we do find may not always be in prime condition for a beauty shot photo. Still, we go for the flowers whenever we can.

Last weekend we set out to find three flowers we’ve been yearning to see this year: tesselated rattlesnake plantain, round-leaved pyrola, and tall white bog orchid. We knew the tesselated rattlesnake plantain would be past prime and that the round-leaved pyrola would already be gone to seed, but we hoped for tall white bog orchid in full flowering glory.

Our first stop was down a narrow one-lane sandy road to a place where we’d once seen tesselated rattlesnake plantain leaves. The day was overcast, and the pine trees made a sound like rain that never reaches the ground. No sooner were we out of the car than we saw the white spires of two northern (very) slender ladies’-tresses with their wispy spiraling flowers already going to seed. We’d seen northern slender ladies-tresses only once before, so jubilation ensued to see them again in this new-to-us location. We also found plenty of tesselated rattlesnake plantain, mostly heading to seed but still happily growing.

Next stop: Badoura Jack Pine Scientific and Natural Area (SNA) where we were on the hunt for round-leaved pyrola, the last of the state’s seven pyrola/shinleaf that we had yet to positively identify. We’d found the coordinates in an online search in the University of Minnesota Herbarium records, and we followed them down a sandy track to where we planned to veer off into the trees. Jack pine woodland often has an open understory, but as we peered into the woods it was clear that some serious bushwhacking would be required. We can bushwhack with the best of them, but the day had turned hot and humid, and our enthusiasm for bushwhacking was at an ebb. Besides, we had not brought along our colored plastic ties, for us a bushwhacking essential.

Perhaps we could come at the coordinates from a different direction by taking a trail we had passed earlier and then heading into the woods. We backtracked to the trail and hiked past tesselated rattlesnake plantain, pipsissewa, and Hill’s thistle. But when we reached the place where we needed to turn into the woods again, bushes and undergrowth still blocked our way.

Surely, we reasoned, if round-leaved pyrola grew somewhere deep in bushwhack territory, what’s to say it didn’t grow elsewhere, too, in this part of the jack pine forest? We’d scoured the trail as we hiked, but now as we retraced our steps we looked more closely in open areas alongside the trail. Which is where, down in the pine needles and grasses, we found several stems of seed pods and the long-stalked shiny leaves of round-leaved pyrola. All seven pyrola/shinleaf seen and identified in one year–check!

Our last stop of the day was Iron Springs Bog SNA where, just at the coordinates where we’d once before seen tall white bog orchid long past prime, two tall white spires bloomed beautifully, almost as though they were waiting for Kelly to take their picture.

Our targeted searches had paid off, but we also had the thrill of an unlooked-for flower find. We might set out with maps, coordinates, helpful hints–and then, just beyond the car door, we might find two unexpected northern slender ladies’-tresses growing.

Which is one of the reasons we do what we do: for the surprise of delight.

See more of what we are SEEING NOW…

Pinesap, Pyrola, Perspiration

July 11-12, 2026

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

We’ve been on a search for all seven of Minnesota’s pyrola and so far have seen five of them (possibly six). The seventh, small shinleaf (Pyrola minor) is a species of special concern in Minnesota, which along with its small size and limited range makes it hard to track down.

Luckily we have a friend who delights in finding wildflowers, rare and otherwise, and who is generous in sharing their locations. When we told him we were still on the hunt for small shinleaf, he offered to show us a patch he had found. So we drove up to meet him in Grand Marais, where the breeze off the lake was a welcome coolness (this was pre-wildfire smoke). He warned us, though, that inland was hotter and muggier, and inland is where we were headed.

On our way to see the small shinleaf we stopped at Pincushion Mountain lookout, where our friend had seen pinesap. We’d seen pinesap once before about a mile along the trail to Bear and Bean Lake. Did we write down the coordinates to help us find it again? We did not. Besides, in our memories it was far gone to seed. So a quick walk along a short trail to see pinesap in better condition sounded just right.

But pinesap keeps its own schedule. Because it lacks chlorophyll and doesn’t need sunlight to produce food, it also doesn’t need to show itself above ground every year. Apparently this was one of those years.

Our friend offered to send us coordinates for another location not too far off our route home, and we headed on for the main event, finding small shinleaf.

If our first stop was a short walk down a trail, our hike to see small shinleaf was the opposite—a long bushwhack over uneven terrain through forest with alder thickets, waist-high patches of bracken fern, downed trees, and logs hidden underfoot. Did we mention the uneven hillside? Before long we were drenched in sweat, but we trusted our friend and slogged on after him, resisting the urge to ask, “Are we there yet?” (I could hear Kelly, though, behind me thinking it. Loudly.)

Finally he told us, “This looks like the place.”

And sure enough scattered on the forest floor were single upright stems with small white flowers, mostly done blooming but with a few flowers still open. Two other white-flowered shinleaf look similar, but not only are small shinleaf’s flowers arranged differently around the stem but it also has shorter styles (the slender stalk in the middle of the flower) while the flowers of the other two shinleaf are larger and have longer, curved styles like elephant trunks.

Kelly took photos, careful not to let sweat drip on her camera. I wrote down GPS coordinates, and Kelly asked me “Why?” There is a remote chance we would ever want to find this location again, (but not in hot and muggy weather without carrying a week’s worth of food and water and possibly a small battery operated fan). Then we headed back for the road by a shorter route with less bushwhacking and only one little creek to leap. We emerged from the woods soaked with perspiration, glad to see our cars not far down the road.

After many gulps of water and many thanks to our friend, we drove off in air conditioned comfort to check on a ditch we’d seen two years earlier full of lesser purple fringed orchid. Last year when we’d checked on the ditch, we found not a single sign of a single orchid. Were they gone? Taking a year off underground? Just not up yet? This year, because we were looking about a week later into summer, our hopes were high.

So were the orchids, about thirty of them growing out of the ditch, some in bud, some partly blooming. With happy hearts we drove on to spend the night with generous friends at their home on Lake Superior.

Now that we’d seen small shinleaf, we only needed to see round-leaved pyrola to complete the set. We thought we might have seen it last year along Woods Creek trail, although it might have been green-flowered pyrola, which looks similar but has duller leaves than round-leaved pyrola. On Sunday we set out to re-hike Woods Creek trail to check on which pyrola we had seen.

The day was hot and sunny. The creek babbled along below us, and we were grateful for occasional breezes that cooled us off. We saw plenty of pyrola—one-sided, pink, one-flowered— but when we came to the plants we’d been uncertain about, we knew enough now to identify them as dull-leaved green pyrola. So we are still on the hunt for pyrola number seven.

On the way home we detoured from the highway to follow our friend’s coordinates down narrower and narrower winding dirt roads until we came to the place he had sent us. And there, just where our friend had said, we found pinesap— a few stalks going to seed and one plant fighting its way up out of matted leaves, its stalks and flowers still ghostly white.

Epilogue: When we got home Kelly checked the picture she had taken of pinesap on the Bear and Bean Lake trail and realized that that pinesap had been in better and more colorful condition than the pinesap we’d seen along the road. And even though we had seen pinesap before, in a weekend that began and ended with a search for pinesap, with plenty of pyrola in between, it’s good to know that, under trees and down roads in the back of beyond, more pinesap makes at least an occasional appearance. To know, too, that somewhere in forests we may never hike again we have seen small shinleaf, thanks to our wildflower-wise friend.

See more of what we are SEEING NOW…

Out and About Again

July 3-4, 2026

Author: Phyllis Root
Photographer: Kelly Povo

It’s been a while since Kelly’s and my schedules aligned, but this past weekend they did, so we headed to some of our favorite places looking for orchids. And whatever else we could see, of course–it’s not that we’re just orchid fanatics. Really we’re not.

Our first orchid stop (okay, we’re a little fanatical) was an unmarked turnoff that a friend had found and shared with us. We’d been here before, the last time memorably getting our boots stuck in muck as we ran from a rainstorm. This time, although rain threatened, none fell.

This tucked-away cedar grove is one of the few places we’ve seen large round-leaved orchid (Platanthera orbiculata) with its almost ethereal looking blossoms. Under the shade of cedar trees the orchids were beginning to bloom, and among them we also found blunt-leaved orchid (Platanthera obtusata) blooming, one of the very few places we’ve ever seen it.

Diligent searching for lesser rattlesnake plantain orchid, which we’d seen there before, resulted in one tiny plant growing out of a mossy log. I called for Kelly to come see, but we had both wandered in different directions, and by the time we reconnected I had lost my bearings and couldn’t relocate the very tiny lesser rattlesnake plantain. But it was growing there, and so, along the trail into the site, were several lovely Loesel’s twayblade orchids.

By the time we reached Iron Springs Bog Scientific and Natural Area (SNA) the day had turned hot and muggy, but we didn’t care. We were in one of our very favorite flower-chasing places, and it didn’t disappoint. We saw showy lady’s- slipper orchids–far too many to count. We also saw a long-bracted frog orchid, and plenty of Platanthera huronensis and Platanthera aquilonis blooming. These two similar orchids of the Platanthera genus are the reason we felt compelled to learn the scientific names of all eleven of the Platanthera orchids that grow in Minnesota. Not only did they look similar but the various common names for them also confusingly overlap. Both have been commonly called some combination of tall northern bog orchid, northern green orchid, northern bog orchid, north wind bog orchid, northern green bog orchid. Just to be sure we knew which orchid we meant we took to calling them huronensis and aquilonis. The habit spilled over into the other Platanthera genus members. Besides, although we are not botanists, we feel rather botany-ish using scientific names.

Our hunt for white adder’s-mouth was unsuccessful, as was our hunt for tall white bog orchid (Platanthera dilatata), but we did see plenty of green adder’s- mouth (familiarly known to us as mop top–we’re not always botany-ish).
Our trip included two more orchid-seeking stops the next day. By the time we arrived at the first unmarked site, the air had turned thundery, so we donned our rain coats and made our way to where we had once seen Hooker’s orchid (Platanthera hookeri). So many trees had fallen since our last visit that we were sure they were covering up the orchids we’d seen there before and couldn’t find now.

Rain fell in torrents as we headed back to the car. Luckily we had our raincoats on, although we hadn’t bothered with rain pants. We’ll dry soon, we assured ourselves. But it’s hard for wet pants to dry when the rain keeps falling. Sitting on towels, we drove down the road to another favorite SNA, where to our delight we found a whole little patch of blunt-leaved orchid (Platanthera obtusata) just beginning to bloom in the silvery light. Luckily I use an all-weather notebook, and Kelly always brings an umbrella for me to hold over her camera in inclement weather. In the same small area we also found early coralroot, heart-leaved twayblade gone to seed, lesser round-leaved orchid gone to seed, showy lady’s-slipper, bloomed-out small yellow lady’s-slipper, and a colony of tiny rattlesnake plantain growing jubilantly over a mossy hummock. Orchid heaven for flower chasers.

By the time we were ready to head home our orchid-seeking hearts and our pants were both saturated. In our haste to put on dry clothes when no cars were driving by, I somehow left a boot behind, and Kelly’s sunshade had disappeared, although we didn’t realize either loss until we got home and unloaded my gear when Kelly dropped me at my house. If anyone comes across a single hiking book with a tick gaiter attached to it or a round nylon case containing an expandable sun shade, you know where to find us.

A boot, a gaiter, and a sunshade seem like small losses weighed against the wealth of wildflowers and orchids that we saw. Even if we’d seen nothing, it felt good to be searching again. And yes, we saw plenty of other flowers besides orchids–twinflower, bunchberry, purple pitcher plant, Canada mayflower, one-flowered pyrola, one-sided pyrola, round-leaved pyrola, pink pyrola, green-flowered pyrola, shinleaf, tufted loosestrife, and more. Even if we hadn’t seen orchids, our hearts would still be overflowing.

It’s good to be out and about, chasing flowers (and sometimes even catching them) again.