The Woodland Path
The Forest Floor
When woodland flowers come to mind, one usually thinks daffodils and crocuses, but the true forest blooms are smaller, wilder and more subdued, and grow in mass to paint the forest floor in large blocks of color.
They usually come in white, yellow or purple, as these are the most common colors for wild flowers, and their names are unfamiliar.
The small and delicate bluets, spring beauties, lesser celandines, mayapples, toothwort, trillium, bloodroot and Jack-in-the-pulpits create lacy flower carpets in the shade of trees, which you must get close to in order to enjoy fully.
Most woodland flowers bloom in spring before the trees leaf out; the forest ecosystem functions symbiotically, and its components come back to life in reverse order of their size, beginning with the forest floor.
The early spring forest is a vibrant array of colors, from the cheerful yellow of buttercups to the chartreuse of birch aments and the pink canopies of redbuds.
Everything changes to dark green when the large trees leaf out.
Charming
If you ever wanted to know what a mandrake looks like, here is the American variety, also known as mayapple, which is a different species than its European counterpart.
This woodland native produces large colonies from a single root, content to spread its green umbrellas across the forest floor.
At the end of May, the plant produces a single bloom, which later transforms into an egg-shaped fruit.
The fruit ripens to a bright yellow hue at the end of summer.
As delightful as mayapple looks, the whole plant is highly toxic, apart from the mature fruit, which some people have consumed in small quantities, or turned into jelly.
It's best to be cautious and stay away from it, because even touching its leaves can irritate the skin.
The only thing it has in common with the true mandrake, the European kind, is its humanoid shaped root, which is said to utter a deafening scream when uprooted.
This spring was rainy, and the woods were filled with them. They were everywhere, blooming profusely in the company of lily-of-the-valley, which, since we're at it, is enchanting but deadly poisonous too.
Wild Honeysuckle
Every year this feisty bush vexes me with its aggressive growth and ever expanding girth, yet for one month of May, it turns my garden into a magical realm.
Its supple branches, weighed down with white and yellow blossoms, bow gracefully overhead to drop a shower of petals on the garden path and those who walk it.