Finally, the snow seems to have been washed away. I was sure that a snowstorm on March 31 was somehow an insult in its lateness, until I checked my photo files and discovered pictures of snow in April. I suppose that we all live in the moment, from one year to the next, forgetting the details of last year and only remembering impressions of what has happened and whether it feels right or not. Despite the fact that snow in early spring is not that uncommon, our last snowstorm felt like the straw that broke the camel’s back.
But then it was followed by rain, and as the snow and ice melted before our eyes, I was filled with the promise of the change of season. The landscape is about to make a wonderful transformation from brown to green, and there are plants and animals throughout our area that have been waiting in suspended animation (also known as hibernation) for their chance to “wake up” and add their ingredients to the sumptuous stew we call spring.
One of my favorite springtime “seasonings” is a plant called Dutchman’s breeches (Dicentra cucullaria). This plant is a perennial, which means that it lives for more than one year by surviving in the form of bulbous roots underground. A great example of this sort of lifestyle is seen in the day lily, which grows in the same place for years, or even decades. Dutchman’s breeches is a much smaller plant with much smaller bulbous roots, but it uses the same strategy.
One of the things that always surprises me about this plant is how small the flowers actually are. When I see photos of the flowers, I am generally looking at zoomed-in close-ups that fill the frame with the details of the beautiful blossoms. As a result, my mind is filled with oversized images, and when I stumble upon the actual flowers out in the woods, I am forced to adjust to the reality of the fact that they are only about the size of your thumbnail.
Blooming very early in the spring, the flowers can be out and fully developed before May arrives. Each blossom looks a little bit like a pair of billowy trousers that have been hung on a clothesline to dry. The fact that they look like “Dutchman’s” breeches is an apparent reference to the wide trousers worn by Dutch sailors in the days of the great sailing vessels. This has absolutely nothing to do with the flowers, however, and everything to do with the random connections that the human mind is capable of making.
A member of the poppy family, the Dutchman’s breeches plant is closely related to the false bleeding heart (D. eximia) and squirrel corn (D. canadensis), which can also be found in our area.
All three plants are characterized by their gorgeous, lacy leaves and racemes of white or pale pink flowers. For those who might be unfamiliar with the term “raceme,” this is a description of a flowering arrangement in which a collection of individual flowers are attached to a central stalk in a somewhat linear fashion.
Pollinated chiefly by bumblebees, the flowers of the Dutchman’s breeches plant bloom from April to May. As is often the case with wildflowers of early spring, the plants then go to seed early and appear to die off. Before this happens, however, the plants must see that their seeds are spread and they do this in a fascinating way.
Each tiny seed is equipped with a nutrient-rich blob of “food” (called an elaiosome) that is particularly attractive to ants. The seeds are collected by ants and brought back to their nests where the nutritious blobs of food are consumed. Then, the intact seeds are pitched into the “garbage” pile, which is exactly where they want to be. Ants are fastidious creatures and their garbage piles are filled with all sorts of outstanding compost. Seeds that find themselves in such places are in a perfect position to germinate in a nutrient-rich pile of soil. The ants also benefit, whether intentionally or not, by planting future food crops; a wonderful example of a mutually beneficial symbiotic relationship.
The only way to see these plants in real life is to get outside and take a walk (or walks) in forests with rich soils. This should be music to the ears of anyone who is suffering from a bad case of cabin fever, as I am. The prescription for this condition is a walk in the woods with cell phones closed down and eyes open. Who could possibly argue with a doctor that gives you this kind of advice?
Bill Danielson has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service, and the Massachusetts State Parks. He has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 19 years and he also teaches high school biology and physics. Visit www.speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.