It's March 18. After 70° F days, it's backwards again. It's around freezing and spitting graupel; that's what is formed by super-cooled water droplets that freeze on falling snowflakes. (Wouldn't you be pleased not to know what that is?) How cruel to be teased with a few warm days.
Yesterday, I was out with my camera searching for encouragement and found just two reasons to hope. The first was my old friend Skunk Cabbage. It can emerge through snow thanks to a catalytic process. No snow in this March, but it's still good to find. I recalled this discovery on April 18, 2021 and decided to return.
The location is lovely. A slender path of water flows down a mossy bank towards Cayuta Lake near me. There was one missing element. In most examples, the soft yellow flower is located deep inside the green and mauve hood that is possibly protecting the pollen from being washed away before insects can visit the stinky flower. This year, maybe I'll find one with the flower's visible the hood? I'd just about surrendered when this was revealed!
The appetite for spring wildflowers in March can create excitements at the slightest prize. Didn't mind getting my knees muddy for this.
Another possible wildflower is Sharp-Lobed Hepatica. It's order of emergence seems a bit odd. The plant blooms before the year's leaves emerge. Again in 2021, I found this example with 2020's leaves surviving.
Yesterday, I again found an old friend in bloom but the 2023 leaves were gone.
Still, I reiterate my premise. March is a cruel month. I am going out later wearing a down jacket, warm gloves and stocking cap. Please excuse my whining.
Paul
