I don’t remember the first time I saw a trout lily in bloom, but I do remember that it made an impression on me. The image of this delicate, early-spring wildflower was indelibly seared onto my brain as an example of perfection in the world of beautiful flowers. I wonder if you have ever seen one of these flowers and I wonder what your first impression was.
In 1894, John Burroughs published his ninth book, “Riverby,” and its opening chapter was called, “Among The Wild Flowers.” In this essay he mentions several of the flowers that bloom wild in the Northeast and among them is the plant we know as the trout lily (Erythronium americanum). I say this because the trout lily has had a colorful collection of names over the years.
Also known as dog-toothed violet, adder’s tongue and fawn lily, the trout lily is a colony-forming perennial plant that can propagate from seeds or from bulbs. Like many woodland wildflowers, the trout lily blooms early in the spring before the leaves of the trees come out and shade the forest floor. April flowers may bring May flowers in the fields, but trout lilies are in full bloom right now and by May they might be gone.
In his “Among The Wild Flowers” essay, Burroughs wrote: “In my spring rambles I have sometimes come upon a solitary specimen on this yellow lily growing beside a mossy stone where the sunshine fell full upon it, and have thought it one of the most beautiful of our wild flowers. Its two leaves stand up like a fawn’s ears, and this feature, with its recurved petals, gives it an alert, wide-awake look.” Burroughs was informally petitioning for the name “fawn lily” here, but the name “trout lily” is the one that stuck.
I happened to see the flowers shown in today’s photos on an April day that varied from cloudy one moment to full sun the next and I have to admit that the blossoms backlit and glowing on a hillside are truly thrilling to see. I also happened to observe and photograph something that I would later read about when researching the plant for this column. “They do not burst their covering or lift it up, but pierce through it like an awl,” wrote Burroughs and that is exactly what I saw. An oak leaf had been pierced by the flower stem so that the flower was blooming above the leaf, while the trout lily’s green leaves were underneath it.
These leaves are, in fact, where the trout lily gets its current name. Long and elliptical, the leaves are a gorgeous blend of mint green and brown sugar that appear to have melted together like different flavors of ice cream and then solidified again. This coloration actually wreaked havoc with the autofocus on my camera because even when perfectly in focus the pattern on the leaves seems out of focus. This silky smooth appearance is said to resemble the skin of a trout, and hence, the name.
I know that my column appears on Mondays, but if you have any time after work, or if you are still working from home and you can get out during lunch, I would recommend a trip to a woodland with moist soils and (preferably) a stream. If you fi nd a trout lily in bloom you will agree that it was well worth the trip.