Northwood News ♦ April 2008

President’s Message

Spring Flowers:  Fragile Yet Stubborn

By Carole A. Barth

This is the time of year I eagerly search for signs of spring.  Of course, it always cheers my heart to see the snow drops, crocus, and winter aconite in the garden, but for me it’s not spring until I see the woodland wildflowers.

One of the first shrubs to bloom is the spice bush.  In March, before any leaves unfurl, the spice bush is covered with tiny chartreuse flowers.  In April or May, these flowers would never be noticed.  In March, however, this color is so sharp and bright against the dull tans, greys, and black of the winter woods that you gasp when you see it.  It is the visual equivalent of a squirt of lime juice on the tongue.

Although it appears fragile in bloom, the spice bush is a very tough plant.  It survives both drought years and deluges.  It’s called spice bush because the leaves emit a bracing herbal sent when crushed.  It apparently tastes spicy also, since it’s one of the few native shrubs deer don’t like to browse.

Under the spice bush, the forest floor is home to a host of delicate spring flowers:  saxifrage, bloodroot, trout lily, Dutchman’s breeches, spring beauties, hepatica, star chickweed, lady slippers, Virginia bluebells, and more.  These are called ephemerals because they take advantage of the brief window of time between the end of winter and leaf-out in the forest.  They enjoy full sun until the canopy closes over.  Rather than struggling to survive the low light levels and heat of summer, they die back and lie dormant until the next spring.

It’s a race for these plants to grow, flower, be pollinated, and ripen seed in time.  That takes a tremendous amount of energy and, once the shade closes in, there is very little energy to be had.  So woodland wildflowers don’t set seed very often.  One study documented that Dutchman’s breeches advance by seed spread at the rate of about a hundred yards per millennium.

So the spring ephemerals more often spread vegetatively by runners or other means.  A large patch of trout lily may really be a single plant with hundreds of stems.  We understand it takes many years for a large tree to grow, but we may not realize that a large stand of trout lily clones probably took centuries to grow.  If left undisturbed, they may live for centuries to come.

So this year, come out to the woods, crouch down and take a good look at these miraculous harbingers of spring.  Marvel at their delicate strength and tenacity.  Meditate on the paradox of their fleeting, yet almost immortal life span.  I’ll see you there!   ■