A Botanist's Playground

My grandfather was an avid student and teacher of botany. You could imagine, then, his delight had he been able to hike the AT. You can also then understand the sense of obligation that I have as I walk -- a burden to learn and know the plants that I am surrounded by.

It's not just because of my grandfather, though. Just like anyone traveling to a new place, it makes good sense to learn about your new surroundings. I am a guest of the trail and the woods that it winds through, a sojourner moving from one white blaze to the next. Because of that, I desire to know the place where I find myself. Simply put, it's a part of being a good guest and appreciating all that the host has to offer.

If I were a better student of my grandfather, there wouldn't be quite so much to learn. Of course, had I been a better student of my mom, I would be familiar with the birds as well. And, if I had been a better student of my dad, I would have photo-documented all that I have seen thus far. The fact remains that I stand here with much to learn and very few photos.

That being said, I've made progress. Remember that mystery flower from a few posts ago? It is known as Bloodroot. If you break its leaf, you'll find a fluorescent orange sap oozing from the tear. And if the color weren't enough to grab your attention, this sap is known for its plaque fighting abilities ... it is said to ward off insects ... and, when used as a dye, it becomes blood red, a fact that becomes particularly useful in case you are planning on decorating Easter eggs while in the wilderness. Bloodroot is by far my new favorite flower in the backcountry. Really, what more could you ask of one plant?

There are more cool plants in the Appalachian hills. The Rattlesnake Orchid makes the list, with its leaves that resemble rattlesnake skin. In fact, according to the "doctrine of similarity," this plant has historically been used as a treatment for rattlesnake bites. I'd wager a guess that the historical success rate has been less than desired. Then again, if I found myself bit by a rattler and sitting next to one of these orchids, I'd use it. It's worth a try, right?

I've also seen Fire Pink, a red flower with petals that are forked at the tip. At first blush I thought, "Who in his right mind would call this flower pink anything? After all it's red and looks like a snake's tongue." Little did I know, "pink" refers to that very shape, as each of the five petals is pinked, or notched, at the tip. Common sense prevails yet again.

The Mayapples have been pitching their umbrellas, the fiddlehead ferns are opening, and I've seen just about every color violet you can think of: dark violet, pale violet, pink, indigo, and yellow. Beyond that there are all the combinations: dark violet with pale edges, white with purple streaks, purple with white highlights ... and the possibilities are too many to name.

In addition, I've noticed Dwarf Purple Iris, Perfoliate Bellwort, Daisy Fleabane, Squawroot, Trout-lily, Wild Geranium, Spring-beauty, Wood-sorrel, and Toothwort. I hope to be able to spot at least one Dutchman's Breeches before leaving the Smokies, in honor of my friends back at Calvin.

And here's where you come in. There remains one flower that I've spotted and have yet to identify given the resources at my disposal. Can you name the flower in the picture below?