Life Aflower

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Towering dogwoods pale yellow in full flower, azaleas and rhodies in fresh bloom, splashing fuschia and
crimsons, heavy lavender lilac blooms reach for the sky, while delicate bluebells and white cotton spears carpet the garden floor. But, this is not the garden, it's only the parking lot of my hospice house.

Gentle breezes lift my hair, sunshine kisses my arms, warming my smiling, up-turned face, thinning my blood; while the shade reminiscent of winter's grasp, prickles and pokes at my flesh. My first escape from my ALS-inforced prison in months. I'm propelled in my fancy carriage, by my husband's gentle hand. He continues to visit the ruin of his financial life, the love of his life...Me.

We've enjoyed 20 springtimes together, breaking out our motorcycles to tour the daffodil fields of Puyallup, Skagit Valley tulip fields, or fuschias in Lewis County; planting dahlia tubers, vegetable seeds, onion sets, flats of marigolds, pansies, and primroses; thrilling to the sight of the first yellow spears of forsythia, the solitary white trillium, the emerging purple and yellow crocus, or the blue grape hyacinth; irises escape their bulbs to raise their stalks to shake their showy selves.  

This will be our twentieth summer, God willing. I recall an errant foxglove knifing through the blueberry bush; the surprising, lavender clematis vining up it's trellis; honeysuckle entwining broadleaf ferns and brambles beneath towering evergreens; the azaleas and rhododendrons burst their pods to riot in color; pink, frilly, fragrant peonies make their brief, leggy appearance; numerous red roses invade the neighboring gum tree; deep purple butterfly bushes beckon passing monarchs; and that's just in our yard! Belligerent, yellow Scotch bloom line the neighboring easement irritating my eyes, nose, and throat.

Cherry blossoms, camillias, and pink dogwoods to envy and enjoy; golden rain tree, with it's yellow, lantern-like flowers hanging from aloft; lush wisteria vines support heavy-laden boughs gracing other people's yards; delphinium, an unusual hue of blue, never fails to draw my eye; berries in flower, in season, blackberries, Himalayans, blueberries, raspberries, salmonberries, huckleberries, thimbleberries; I see these things going about any day, nearly any neighborhood in my Pacific Northwest.

My husband and I had a vacation home, near Mount Rainier National Park; we spent most weekends traipsing the mountain roads between Seattle and there. Determined to keep the trip fresh, we varied our routes, more than weather-dictated closures. It was these frequent meanderings that got me interested in wildflower identification.

My husband rattled off the ones he already knew; fireweed, cow parsnip, skunk cabbage; purple, tapering spikes of lupine, magenta and red-orange Indian paintbrush; beargrass; Wildflowers of the Pacific Northwest and camera in tow, I learned that the white straw flowers were pearly everlasting; mountain aster was the multi-petaled light-purple with a golden-centered flower; phlox, saxifrage, and penstemon litter the rock walls. 

Hiking trails within and surrounding the park yielded additional finds; Snow and Bench Lake trails turned out a mountain bog gentian and a toad; hiking about Narada Falls revealed a clump of Jeffrey's shooting stars, looking like bright purple rockets or missiles falling to Earth. The melting out of Reflection Lake left avalanche lilies in the wake of snow melt. Up at Sunrise, the Sourdough Ridge trail took us to a spot where my husband pointed out hoar frost, and I pointedout the sturdy-stemmed, yellowish-white anemone, otherwise known as pasqueflower. 

Hurricane Ridge, located the Olympic National Park, was one of our favored destinations for the beautiful vistas, subalpine meadows, easy hiking, accessible wildlife, and the wildflowers. Sedge and buckwheat (western bistort) blossom throughout the meadows; deer browse the meadows, unabashedly, and among the yarrow, right by the parking lot; rocky outcroppings contained saxifrage, stonecrop, tiny nests of bluebell; At one vistapoint, we hit the mother lode and photographed Scotch bluebells, purplish owlclover, sprays of yarrow, nodding onion, Cusick's speedwell, white campion, sunny-yellow cinquefoil, skunk-like polemonium, and the yellow, extra-terrestrial looking Martindale's lomatium (desert parsley).

The Henry M. Jackson Memorial building, the former one, (1964-2008) sported a labeled garden, where I learned to identify rosy spirea and columbine.Tipsoo Lake reader boards taught me the differences between pink mountain heather, white, and kinnick kinnick. elephant's head lousewort was a surprise; hellebore, with it's swooping, swirling green leaves, was particularly beautiful. The Natches Peak Loop trail was well worth the time and effort, offering sweeping views of Mt. Rainier.

Another daytrip found us at Mt. St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, where we climbed the outdoor stairs to better view both, the volcano and Spirit Lake. A sea of purple penstemon, interspersed with splashes of red-orange Indian paintbrush, covered the hillside amid pulverized rock, ash, pumice, and scoured logs.

Trip to the more arid side of the state afforded us to see arrowleaf balsamroot, daisies, Indian tobacco, thistle, and chicory; Stopping for a dip in the water, we discovered Solomon's seal near the Naches River.

An overnighter, in the Subaru Outback, to Crater Lake National Park, in Oregon, saw us bagging sightings of gorgeous blue, blue Crater Lake, crazy rock formations, and Lewis' monkeyflower. A trip to visit my girlfriend in Alaska got me a first hand view of Denali, a 102-lb. halibut on my fishing line, moose sighting, countless photographs, and a look at wild irises and  forget-me-nots