Yes, it was a big birding weekend, but in the midst of all the fine-feathered drama overhead, we couldn’t help but notice the wildflowers decorating the forest floor. And on many wilderness paths, especially those that rarely have human visitors, it’s a trick to avoid stepping on them.

Everyone oohs and ahhs over the red trillium and painted trillium. The red trillium, sometimes called purple trillium, is neither red nor purple. It’s a beautiful shade of maroon with lovely dark green foliage. The amount of reddish-purple streaking on the painted trillium varies from flower to flower—some have very little coloration while others have a great deal.

Red trillium has a funny folk name—Stinking Benjamin. The name supposedly came about because some people thought the flower smells like a wet dog. With my very young clients, I love to get down on all fours and sniff the flowers to see what they think of the odor and what it reminds them of. Yesterday everyone decided that the odor resembled a slightly fishy smelling riverbank.

The trout lilies, a graceful yellow flower emerging from green spotted foliage, are everywhere, too, and so are the Carolina Spring Beauties (love that name!)

Wild Columbine
And this afternoon, when Sophie and I reached the top of the ledge, I gasped. Growing right along the edge of the cliff were numerous wild columbine wildflowers! They weren't there last May, that's for sure. The only wild columbines I saw in our area last year were over a mile away. So how did they get to one of my favorite wild places? As exposed to the elements as the ledge is, maybe the wind blew the seeds there? Or were seeds deposited by birds or via the scat of another animal? Since there are many plants where there were none before, I'm mystified.