Reflections on Wildflowers 3

Toward the end of June, I found a few more wildflowers blooming in my yard. Beside the patio that extends from the north side of my barn stood a Wood Anemone with a delicate branching posture. Not far away, on the sloping ground leading to a precipice above my creek, an Oxeye Sunflower burst into a glorious display that was as brassy as the Wood Anemone’s appearance was demure. The Oxeye Sunflower kept blooming for a long time, and it cheered me every time I saw it—and I saw it frequently each day! It resembled a tall yellow daisy with multiple blossoms. Its vibrant yellow was the color of the crayon that children always choose when drawing a sun.

Sunflower, Painting by L. A. Simonsen, in Wild Flowers

Adapted by Asa Don Dickinson from Nature’s Garden

By Neltje Blanchan (Doubleday, 1917, 1926)

Under a big maple tree, Spiny-Leaved Sow Thistle began to bud. The name “Spiny-Leaved Sow Thistle” affords me the opportunity to write a few words about the common names of wildflowers. They are descriptive, but, perhaps more importantly, they are often cleverly chosen and delightfully curious: much more so than are the names of many cultivated flowers. I think back to Sweet Cicely. I picture “her” as female. As she has a “sweet” personality, I see her smiling like the heroine in an original Disney animation. She is Victorian in her tastes, would you agree? Then I recall Golden Ragwort. This entity is a scruffy mischief-maker who, at first, feigns a grouchy mood but who, at last, reveals a golden heart.

Daisy Fleabane is a talker: talk, talk, TALK, talk, TALK! She gossips and starts rumors. She is everywhere at once, watching for any newsworthy event that she can hasten to impart to anyone who will listen. Try as she might, she cannot interest Red Deadnettle in anything she has to say. This frustrates her enormously. Red steadfastly goes about his business and pays no attention to Daisy. Of course, he hears every word and is secretly entertained. He will not give Daisy the pleasure of letting on that her stories amuse him after all! Meanwhile, she swings her leafy fists in vexation at his taciturnity.

Nightshade, Painting by L. A. Simonsen, in Wild Flowers

Adapted by Asa Don Dickinson from Nature’s Garden

By Neltje Blanchan (Doubleday, 1917, 1926)

Really, though, I need not personify wildflowers to appreciate them. They are surprisingly varied expressions of nature with cunning names that invite a writer to think of characters. Throughout the six acres surrounding my house are hosts of wildflowers. Even though much of the acreage is a grassy lawn that I mow each week, the wildflowers live amid the grass. They tuck themselves into corners between the roots of trees, and they find places to flourish that are not even places, such as the edge of a drain pipe.

Dandelion, Painting by L. A. Simonsen, in Wild Flowers

Adapted by Asa Don Dickinson from Nature’s Garden

By Neltje Blanchan (Doubleday, 1917, 1926)

Unfortunately, those wildflowers that find their way into my vegetable garden are discretely removed; for example, nightshade always tries to take hold amid my carrots but is usually defeated. … and, because they are such a nuisance, dandelions are patiently removed from my lawn, even though they can be of such benefit to human health!

I guess that, where I live, nature seeks to fill every square inch with flowering plants. What a testimony to the way life asserts itself!