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SAN JUAN NATURE NOTEBOOK BY SUSAN VERNON |
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RED RAIN FLOWER
posted 05/30/08
With wildflower season waning at lower elevations, I took last evening's shower as a reminder that I still had several favored plants to find by the end of May. I drove to the north end of San Juan Island looking for a particularly rare species and, having no luck, decided to return to Friday Harbor via West Side Road so I could check on the columbine. Sure enough, it was in full bloom.
Red columbine is a stunning plant that can take your breath away - especially if you come upon it unexpectedly. While I knew just where to find this gem, still it was exciting to see dozens of scarlet flowers growing along a rocky substrate shaded by a stand of old Douglas-firs dripping with lichens called old-man's beard. The scene was further enhanced by the haunting flute-like refrain of a Swainson's thrush singing nearby. Columbine is not a particularly common plant in the San Juans. In Wild Plants of the San Juan Islands, Atkinson and Sharpe consider it most common on Orcas Island where it "...grows on steep, moist, rocky slopes near Mt. Constitution's summit..." I have seen it here on San Juan for nearly twenty years; it appears to be expanding its range at the margins of some of our forests and glades, along roadsides, and even in meadows. It blooms from May through June and July - depending on elevation. For many years now, I have associated its coming into bloom on San Juan Island with the annual Artists' Studio Tour in early June. That event always lures me to the west side - columbine country.
Aquilegia formosa is beguiling. In Latin, formosa means beauty, and surely that is an understatement. The delicate, gently nodding flowers grow atop slender stems of two feet, or so. The floral design is a masterpiece of coral-red sepals and spurs, yellow throat, and an intriguing hanging cluster of honey glands (noted botanist and photographer Lewis J. Clark calls the pendulum "...a brush-like tuft of stamens and styles.") that is irresistible to hummingbirds and butterflies. Indeed, when I got out of my car to take a closer look at the columbine, a male rufous hummingbird made an immediate appearance. Apparently, I had stumbled upon his private reserve and the little hummer zoomed past me several times proclaiming his territory, and scolding me for the surmised intrusion. I did not stay long, but reminded the rufous that there was orange honeysuckle in bloom right down the way if he was in a hurry. He perched, instead, in a nearby madrone, and waited for me to leave.
As I continued down the road, I found columbine in all the usual places, but in greater abundance than in years past. A few plants growing out of a familiar rocky seep have increased to dozens of scarlet trumpets* blooming in profusion along the hillside; sepia hollows are now punctuated with bright coral blossoms; and that gravel road up the mountain beckons with images of rain flowers dancing in shafts of late afternoon sunlight streaming across Haro Strait into the woods.
Red columbine is a beacon of late spring. It nourishes the hummingbirds and butterflies, and lifts my spirits even when the occasional shower reminds me that summer is still three weeks away. I recall the Haida lore of long ago and appreciate the First People's interpretation of the power of this plant. Rain or shine, the columbine appears to have an enduring role in the islands' web of life. * Note: Reference to "scarlet trumpets" from Wild Flowers of the Pacific Coast by Leslie L. Haskins. ____________________________________________________________________________Susan Vernon is a naturalist and writer living on San Juan Island. San Juan Nature Notebook / Red Rain Flower - text and photographs © 2008 by Susan Vernon. No part of this column may be reproduced, except for personal reference, without the expressed written permission of the author. |
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SAN JUAN ISLANDER © 2008 |
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