Category: ancient

Among the Trout Lilies in Sapsucker Woods

On April 22, 2025, a wanderer discovers a trout lily, representing nature’s cycles, patience, and the interconnectedness of life through blooming, pollination, and nutrient cycling.

MichaelStephenWills9 Comments

On the bright afternoon of April 22, 2025, I wander slowly through Sapsucker Woods, last year’s oak leaves soft underfoot and the smell of damp earth in the air. The trees stand bare, and somewhere a woodpecker drums as I search the ground for any sign of spring. A flash of gold catches my eye at the mossy base of a tree. Kneeling down, I find among the leaf litter a small wildflower glowing yellow.  It is a trout lily – Erythronium americanum – a solitary, nodding bloom on a slender stem. Six delicate petals flare backward, golden with a few reddish freckles near the throat; long stamens dangle beneath. Two lance-shaped leaves hug the ground, green marbled with burgundy-brown. Their mottled pattern looks like a brook trout’s flank. This flower is known by many names: “trout lily” for its fish-like leaves, “dogtooth violet” for its pointed white bulb 1, and “adder’s tongue” for its tongue-shaped leaf tip.

Its formal name, Erythronium americanum, comes from the Greek for “red”2—odd for a yellow bloom until one remembers the purple dogtooth violets of Europe. Americanum simply marks it as native here. I soon realize these trout lilies are not alone – dozens of dappled leaves carpet the damp earth around me. Most show no blossom at all, only a single freckled leaf standing alone. Only the older plants with two leaves manage to lift a yellow flower. In fact, they often form extensive colonies on the forest floor. I’ve learned a trout lily may wait seven years to bloom its first time3. Seasons of patience pass unseen underground, and then one spring it earns the chance to unfurl a golden star. That slow, patient rhythm of growth fills me with wonder.

A tiny black bee—or maybe a fly—lands on the trout lily’s bloom, drawn by its promise of pollen. It disappears into the flower’s downturned bell, brushing against the dusting of pollen inside. In early spring, few other blossoms are open, so this little lily is a lifeline for hungry pollinators4. There is even a solitary “trout lily bee” that times its life to these flowers5. Flower and insect share an ancient pact: the lily feeds the visitor, and the visitor carries the lily’s pollen onward to another bloom.

Within a week, the trout lily’s golden star will wither. By the time the canopy closes overhead, the flower will have curled into a green seedpod that splits open by early summer, releasing its seeds6. Each seed carries a tiny parcel of food irresistible to ants7. Ants haul the seeds to their nest, eat the morsel, and abandon the seed in their tunnels—unwittingly planting the next generation. The name for this circular ecological dance is myrmecochory. Over time, the colony inches across the forest floor, guided by these tiny gardeners. During its short life above ground, this little lily helps the forest. Its roots soak up nutrients from the damp soil, keeping them from washing away in spring rains8. When the plant dies back, those nutrients return to the earth as the leaves decay, nourishing other life. In this way, a patch of trout lilies forms a quiet bridge between seasons—capturing nutrients in spring and returning them by summer’s end. I touch one cool leaf, feeling connected to this cycle.

I rise and take a final look at the little yellow lily. Its brief bloom reminds me that life’s most beautiful moments are fleeting yet return each year. This blossom will vanish in a few days, a blink of the season, but it will come back next spring as faithful as hope. In its patience and generosity, I sense kinship. Like the trout lily, we too have long periods of waiting and rare moments of blooming. We also rely on small kindnesses to help us thrive—like a friend in hard times or a community that carries our dreams to fertile ground. And we are part of a larger cycle, giving and receiving, leaving something of ourselves to nurture the future. As I continue down the trail, I carry the image of that humble flower with me—a gentle assurance that even the smallest life can leave a lasting impression, and that hope will always return with the spring.

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Footnotes

  1. wildadirondacks.org Trout lily’s common names: “Trout lily” refers to the trout-like mottling on its leaves, while “dogtooth violet” refers to the tooth-like shape of its underground bulb (despite not being a true violet). It is also sometimes called “adder’s tongue.” ↩
  2. en.wikipedia.org The genus name Erythronium comes from the Greek erythros, meaning “red,” originally referring to the red-purple flowers of the European dogtooth violet (Erythronium dens-canis). The species name americanum denotes that it is native to America. ↩
  3. peacevalleynaturecenter.org Trout lilies often grow in large colonies and most individuals in a colony are non-flowering. A plant typically needs about seven years of growth before it produces its first bloom. ↩
  4. peacevalleynaturecenter.org Spring ephemeral wildflowers like the trout lily provide crucial early nectar and pollen for pollinators (bees, flies, butterflies) emerging in early spring. ↩
  5. appalachianforestnha.org The trout lily miner bee (Andrena erythronii) is a solitary bee whose life cycle is closely tied to the trout lily; it forages primarily on trout lily flowers, making it a specialist pollinator of this species. ↩
  6. wildadirondacks.org After pollination, trout lily flowers are replaced by seed capsules that ripen and split open to release the seeds in late spring. ↩
  7. atozflowers.com Erythronium americanum seeds have a small fleshy appendage called an elaiosome, which attracts ants. The ants carry the seeds to their nests, aiding in dispersal in exchange for the food reward, a mutualism known as myrmecochory. ↩
  8. pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov By growing and taking up nutrients during the brief spring season, trout lily plants help retain important nutrients (like potassium and nitrogen) in the ecosystem. When the plants die back and decay, those nutrients return to the soil, contributing to the forest’s nutrient cycle. ↩

Myth and Art: The Sirens of Punta de las Salinas

At Punta de las Salinas, Lily Perkins’ sculptures embody siren mythology, merging art with the rugged beauty of nature’s edge.

MichaelStephenWills9 Comments

The wind carried the scent of the sea as we stood at Punta de las Salinas, the furthest tip of Punta del Este, Uruguay. This was a place of myth and mystery for us, where the Atlantic Ocean merged with the Río de la Plata, and where the rocks bore witness to the timeless interplay of water and stone. Here stood “El Canto de las Sirenas” (The Song of the Mermaids), an evocative art installation by Lily Perkins, first completed in 2012. The sculptures seemed perfectly at home here, their placement deeply intertwined with the mythology they evoked.

This is at Great Britain Square, Punta de las Salinas of Punta del Este. We are at the tip of the peninsula, the easternmost point of Uruguay. This is the art installation El Canto de las Sirenas” (The Song of the Mermaids) (2012) by the artist Lily Perkins. Punta del Este, Departamento de Maldonado, Uruguay

The sirens of ancient lore were said to dwell at perilous points where land met the untamed sea, luring sailors to their doom with haunting songs. These rocky outcrops, both a boundary and a threshold, have long held symbolic power as places where the natural world is at its most raw and elemental. Punta de las Salinas is such a place. Its jagged rocks and churning waves create an environment as beautiful as it is treacherous. It is easy to imagine mythical sirens choosing this very spot to weave their spellbinding melodies.

This is at Great Britain Square, Punta de las Salinas of Punta del Este. We are at the tip of the peninsula, the easternmost point of Uruguay. This is the art installation El Canto de las Sirenas” (The Song of the Mermaids) (2012) by the artist Lily Perkins. Punta del Este, Departamento de Maldonado, Uruguay

Lily Perkins’ installation captures this essence. The sculptures are not idealized depictions of mermaids; they are rugged and raw, encrusted with shells, stones, and marine debris. Their weathered forms mirror the harsh, untamed beauty of their surroundings. It is as if they have emerged from the ocean itself, born of the waves and the salt-laden air, to stand as sentinels at the edge of the world.

The central figure, with her face turned skyward, evokes the myth of the siren’s song—a melody so enchanting that it drove sailors to risk their lives against the rocks. Her posture suggests longing, perhaps for a connection beyond the horizon, or perhaps for the very mortals she is fated to ensnare. Nearby, a broken figure reclines against the rocks, her form partially encased in green netting and mosaic-like tiles. She seems more grounded, her siren’s call muted, as if weighed down by the realities of the modern world. The use of marine materials in her construction—a blend of natural and human-made debris—suggests an awareness of humanity’s impact on the seas.

The third figure, slightly apart, is the most enigmatic. Encrusted with barnacles and weathered by the elements, she seems lost in thought. Her gaze is directed not toward the sea but toward the land, as if contemplating her place at this meeting of worlds. In mythology, sirens were liminal creatures, existing between realms—the sea and the shore, the mortal and the divine. This figure embodies that in-between state, rooted in the rocks yet shaped by the sea.

The placement of these sculptures at Punta de las Salinas is no accident. This headland is the easternmost point of Uruguay, a natural boundary and a crossroads where two vast bodies of water meet. For centuries, sailors navigated these waters, their journeys fraught with danger. The rocks here are unforgiving, and the waves crash with relentless power. To stand at this point is to feel the raw energy of the ocean and to understand why myths of sirens arose in such places. The sirens symbolize both allure and peril, a reminder of the ocean’s capacity to inspire and to destroy.

As I walked among the sculptures, the mythology seemed to come alive. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks could easily be imagined as the sirens’ song—a hypnotic rhythm that draws you in and holds you spellbound. The figures, though silent, seemed to hum with an energy that echoed the sea’s eternal motion.

I feld these sculptures were not merely placed at Punta de las Salinas; but had emerged from it, their forms shaped by the same forces that shaped the rocks beneath our feet. The shells and stones embedded in their surfaces tied them physically to the sea, while their mythical resonance tied them spiritually to the place.

The mythology of the sirens speaks to the duality of the sea—its beauty and its danger, its capacity to give and to take away. Standing at Punta de las Salinas, surrounded by Perkins’ sculptures, I felt that duality in a profound way. The ocean stretched endlessly before us, a vast, unknowable expanse, while behind us lay the solid ground of the peninsula—a place of safety, but also a place that ended here, at this edge.

Lily Perkins sculptures are restored…..

As we left, the figures seemed to watch us go, their silent song lingering in my mind. The sirens of Punta del Este are more than art; they are a dialogue between myth and reality, between the natural world and the human imagination. In their weathered beauty, they remind us of the stories the sea has always told, and of the enduring power of those who give those stories form.

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The Secret Life of Early Meadow-Rue in Forest Ecosystems

Discover the delicate beauty of early meadow-rue (Thalictrum dioicum) along the Gorge Trail at Robert H. Treman State Park. Explore its unique spring blooms, cultural significance in Native American traditions, and the poetry of its quiet role in the woodland ecosystem.

MichaelStephenWills8 Comments


April 28, 2025 – Robert H. Treman State Park, Ithaca, NY. I step lightly along the damp stone stairs of the Gorge Trail, hemmed in by towering rock walls and the whisper of waterfalls. There, at a turn in the path, I encounter an unassuming woodland plant waving in the breeze. Its delicate green foliage could be mistaken for a young fern or columbine, but from its arching stems hang dozens of tiny yellow tassels, swaying like fairy lanterns. This is a male Thalictrum dioicum – commonly known as early meadow-rue, or more whimsically, quicksilver-weed. One of the earliest wildflowers to emerge in spring forests of the Northeast, it offers a subtle spectacle: golden anthers dangling in the cool April breeze, each tiny stamen a pendulum of pollen.

Delicate Botany of a Woodland Rue


At a glance, Thalictrum dioicum might not shout for attention – standing barely one to two feet tall – yet a closer look reveals intricate beauty. Each male plant is a miniature chandelier of blossoms, the flowers having no petals at all but instead a simple fringe of sepals and a flurry of stamens. In fact, the male flowers are the showiest part of this species, with numerous slender, dangling yellow stamens that earn meadow-rue a second look. These dangles are the anthers – pollen-bearing organs – swinging freely to release golden dust on the wind. Female plants, on separate nearby stalks, are more reserved: their flowers hold up clusters of pale pistils like tiny green stars, which, if wind-blessed with pollen, will swell into achenes (dry fruits) later in the season. The separation of sexes in different “houses” is the trait that gives the species its name dioicum, meaning “of two households” in Greek. Early meadow-rue’s foliage is equally enchanting. The leaves are twice or thrice divided into lobed leaflets that resemble the herb rue (Ruta) – hence the common name “meadow-rue”. A misty green above and silvery underside, the leaflets have a rounded, almost columbine-like form with soft scalloped edges. As botanist Eloise Butler once noted, casual hikers often exclaim “what a pretty fern!” upon seeing the airy foliage before noticing any flowers. Indeed, the plant’s fern-like grace and early spring timing give the forest understory a verdant, lacy trim well before the summer plants take over.

What’s in a Name (Etymology and Lore)

Even the name of this humble wildflower carries poetry. The genus Thalictrum harkens back to the Greek word thaliktron, a term used by the ancient physician Dioscorides to describe plants with finely divided leaves. It’s a fitting nod to the meadow-rue’s delicate foliage. The species name dioicum, as mentioned, translates to “two houses,” nodding to its dioecious nature – male and female flowers on separate plants. As for “quicksilver-weed,” an old folk name, one can only imagine it arose from the plant’s ephemeral shimmer: appearing quickly in spring and perhaps glinting with dew like liquid silver. Early meadow-rue also earns its “early” title by being among the first woodland perennials to bloom as the snow melts – a true harbinger of spring in the eastern North American woods. The “rue” in meadow-rue is a bit of a misnomer botanically (meadow-rue is in the buttercup family, not related to true rue). However, the moniker stuck because of a shared appearance – those divided leaves echo the shape of true rue’s foliage. There’s no strong odor or bitterness here, though. Instead, Thalictrum dioicum is gentle in aspect and entirely non-toxic, making it a welcome companion in shady gardens and wild places alike. Gardeners sometimes cultivate it for its graceful foliage and dangling blooms, a little wild treasure in cultivated shade gardens.

A Quiet Role in the Forest Understory


In its native habitat, early meadow-rue lives a low-key life in the understory. It thrives on dappled woodland slopes, often on rich, rocky soils near streams – exactly the sort of place the Gorge Trail winds through. Preferring partial shade, it is comfortable in both moist and well-drained sites. As a spring ephemeral, it takes advantage of the window before the canopy fully leafs out, unfurling its leaves and flowers in April and May, then quietly dying back by midsummer to wait out the year’s end. This strategy allows it to catch the sunlight of early spring and avoid competition later on. Unlike showy wildflowers that beckon bees and butterflies, meadow-rue’s pollinator is the breeze. Being wind-pollinated (anemophilous), it has no need for bright petals or nectar rewards. Instead, those dangling stamens tremble with each gust, shedding pollen into the air – a dance of chance that some of it will drift over to a waiting female flower nearby. The light, swinging tassels are perfectly adapted to this purpose, increasing the odds of pollen dispersal with every sway. Even without offering nectar, early meadow-rue still contributes to its ecosystem. Its tender leaves provide an early snack for rabbits and deer venturing out after winter. A few specialized moth species also use it as a host plant in their caterpillar stage, nibbling on the foliage. By going dormant in summer, meadow-rue returns nutrients to the soil and opens space for later-emerging plants, maintaining the ebb and flow of diversity in the forest floor community. In autumn and winter, only its fibrous roots and a small caudex (rootstock) persist under the leaf litter, ready to send up new growth when spring returns.

Roots in Culture and Folklore

This demure wildflower has also found its way into human stories and herbal traditions. Native American communities, especially in the Northeast, knew and used early meadow-rue in subtle ways. Though not a superstar of indigenous medicine, it had its roles. Cherokee healers brewed tea from the roots to treat diarrhea and stomach troubles, and to ease vomiting. In Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) lore, a decoction of meadow-rue roots was used as a wash for sore, tired eyes, and even taken to steady a palpitating heart – perhaps the gentle plant lending calm through belief or mild effect. Beyond medicine, Thalictrum dioicum tiptoes into the realm of romance and harmony.

According to ethnobotanical notes, young Blackfoot women in the northern Plains would weave the pretty tassels or seed clusters into their hair, believing it would help them attract the attention of a desired young man – a bit of springtime love charm from the wilds. Among some eastern Woodlands tribes, such as the Ojibwa and Potawatomi, the seeds of meadow-rue were a secret tool for domestic peace: slipping a pinch of seeds into the food of a quarreling couple was thought to help dispel discord and restore harmony to the relationship. Whether through mild pharmacological effect or sheer faith, one imagines it brought a hopeful smile to those administering this folk remedy.

Early meadow-rue even made a brief appearance in early colonial folklore. In Canada, it’s said that some of the First Peoples used the crushed roots to treat venomous snake bites, likely as a poultice. The plant’s leaves were also dropped into spruce beer – the fermented drink made by settlers and Natives alike – perhaps as a flavoring or tonic ingredient. Interestingly, despite these uses, meadow-rue never became a staple in European-American herbal medicine. 19th-century herbal texts noted that American Thalictrums were largely ignored by formal medicine, overshadowed by their European cousins. This lends our Thalictrum dioicum an aura of a plant mostly known by those who dwell close to the land – a quiet ally in the forest, employed in pinch when needed and otherwise simply appreciated for its beauty and symbolism.

Reflections on a Spring Encounter

A close-up of Thalictrum dioicum male flowers, often called “quick-silver weed” for the way these golden tassels catch the light. The plant’s lack of petals is evident – instead, dozens of pollen-laden stamens dangle, ready for the wind’s call.

Encountering this early meadow-rue along the gorge felt like stumbling upon a small secret of the woods. In the waterfall haunted gorge, with slate-gray cliffs towering overhead, these frail yellow tassels swayed and twirled as if performing for an unseen audience. There was a breezy playfulness in that moment – the plant nodding in the wind, pollinating by dancing rather than by the busy work of bees.

I was struck by how ancient and new it all felt: this same species blooming every April for thousands of years, used by generations of indigenous peoples for healing and hope, yet to me on that day it was a delightful surprise, as fresh as the spring itself. As I crouched to take a closer look, I imagined the threads of history and myth that early meadow-rue carries. Its presence here is a sign of a healthy, layered woodland. It whispered of resilience – how something so delicate survives the torrents of spring rain and the deep freezes of winter underground, year after year. In the golden afternoon light of the gorge, those dangling blossoms were like drops of quicksilver sunlight, fleeting and brilliant.

I felt grateful to have noticed this little plant, to share a moment of connection across time and cultures. The next bend of the trail would lead me on, but the image of quicksilver weed in bloom stayed with me – a reminder that even the quietest corners of nature are filled with stories waiting to be noticed.

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References

Thalictrum dioicum (Early Meadow-rue) – Wikipedia
Friends of the Wild Flower Garden – Early Meadow-rue (Thalictrum dioicum) plant description and naming
henriettes-herb.com
Institute for American Indian Studies – Medicinal Monday: Early Meadow Rue, blog post (Jan 22, 2024)
Henriette’s Herbal – Thalictrum dioicum excerpt from Drugs and Medicines of North America (1884-1887)
henriettes-herb.com
Friends of the Wild Flower Garden – Eloise Butler’s note on Early Meadow-rue (1911)

Ecological Significance of False Solomon’s Seal

In Taughannock Falls State Park, False Solomon’s Seal captivates with its beauty, ecological role, and historical medicinal uses.

MichaelStephenWills7 Comments

The trails of Taughannock Falls State Park always hold surprises, and on that July day, they did not disappoint. As I paused to take in the tranquility of the woods, my gaze fell upon a plant whose graceful arch and clusters of berries demanded attention. Its broad, lance-shaped leaves alternated along the stem, framing the stem’s terminal cluster of small green berries. Recognizing the plant as Maianthemum racemosum, commonly known as False Solomon’s Seal, I took a moment to admire its understated elegance.

False Solomon’s Seal, scientific name Maianthemum racemosum, is common in the Finger Lakes Region. I found this specimen during a walk with the grandchildren in a local fen among the post-glacial terrain of the Finger Lakes Region. Eames Memorial Natural Area, Cornell Botanic Gardens, Town of Dryden, Tompkins County, Finger Lakes Region, New York State

Characteristics of the Plant

False Solomon’s Seal is a perennial herbaceous plant belonging to the asparagus family (Asparagaceae). It can grow up to three feet tall, its arching stems giving it a unique and recognizable silhouette. The leaves are broad and lance-shaped, with prominent veins running their length, arranged alternately along the stem. At the tip of each stem is a cluster of tiny, spherical green berries, which later in the season ripen to a speckled reddish hue. The plant blooms in late spring to early summer, producing delicate, star-shaped white flowers before transitioning to its fruiting phase.

Found throughout much of North America, Maianthemum racemosum thrives in moist, shaded woodlands, making the lush forests of Taughannock Falls State Park an ideal home. Its ability to grow in the dappled light beneath the forest canopy highlights its adaptability to varying light conditions.

Etymology of the Name

The genus name, Maianthemum, comes from the Greek words “mai” (May) and “anthemon” (flower), reflecting the plant’s tendency to bloom in late spring or early summer. The species name, racemosum, refers to the plant’s inflorescence, which forms a raceme—a cluster of flowers or berries along a single stem. Its common name, False Solomon’s Seal, derives from its superficial resemblance to Solomon’s Seal (Polygonatum spp.), though the latter has bell-shaped flowers hanging beneath its stems, in contrast to the terminal clusters of Maianthemum racemosum.

History and Folklore

False Solomon’s Seal has long been valued for its medicinal and culinary uses by Indigenous peoples and early settlers. The young shoots were harvested and cooked as a vegetable, while the ripe berries were sometimes used in jellies or preserves, though their slightly bitter flavor limited their appeal. Medicinally, teas made from the roots and leaves were used to treat a variety of ailments, including digestive issues, coughs, and sore throats. The roots were also applied as poultices for cuts and bruises, reflecting the deep understanding of natural remedies held by those who lived in harmony with the land.

The plant’s name has sparked legends. While the “false” in its name denotes its distinction from Solomon’s Seal, some folklore suggests that the plant was used to counterfeit the medicinal properties of its namesake. Others believe that its graceful arch and persistent berries symbolize resilience and adaptability, qualities often attributed to those who lived in its native habitats.

Uses and Ecological Role

Although not widely cultivated, Maianthemum racemosum is a valuable plant in its native ecosystems. Its flowers provide nectar for pollinators such as bees and butterflies, while the berries are a food source for birds and small mammals. Its rhizomatous roots also play a role in stabilizing soil in forested environments, preventing erosion and supporting the health of the woodland floor.

For those contemplating harvesting these plants be advised that collection of plants from New York State Parks is prohibited to protect natural resources and maintain ecological balance. According to the New York State Office of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation (OPRHP) regulations, “No person shall… remove… any… plant life” within state parks without proper authorization. Therefore, collecting plants in state parks without explicit permission is not allowed. If you have a specific research or educational purpose, you may contact the park administration to inquire about obtaining the necessary permits. However, for casual visitors, it’s best to enjoy the flora from a distance. False Solomon Seal ecological contributions are significant. In addition to its pollinator support and soil stabilization, the plant’s presence is an indicator of a healthy woodland ecosystem.

A Moment of Reflection

As I rose from my crouched position, having taken in the details of Maianthemum racemosum, I felt a quiet gratitude for the opportunity to encounter such a plant. False Solomon’s Seal, with its graceful leaves and unassuming berries, serves as a reminder of the interconnectedness of life in the forest. Its role in the ecosystem, its history with humans, and its understated beauty all speak to the richness of the natural world.

Walking onward, I carried with me a sense of awe for the intricate web of life that thrives in the woods. The False Solomon’s Seal, standing quietly among the ferns and leaf litter, seemed to embody the resilience and balance of the forest—a gentle presence in a vibrant community.

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The Myths and Beauty of Wood Anemones

The wood anemone, Anemone nemorosa, symbolizes beauty and resilience, captivating observers with its elegant blooms and rich folklore.

MichaelStephenWills7 Comments

As I wander through our yard, my gaze is irresistibly drawn to a mesmerizing carpet of white blossoms, illuminated by the dappled sunlight filtering through the graceful boughs of our hemlocks. Each bloom, delicate and intricately ruffled, resembles a cluster of tiny, pure clouds resting gently atop a vibrant sea of green. These are Anemone nemorosa, affectionately known as wood anemone or windflower. This particular patch, adorned with a double-flowered variety, owes its presence to the thoughtful hands of our parents, who landscaped the property during the 1970s and 1980s. Their vision continues to bloom each spring, as the cascading petals exude an understated elegance that feels both luxurious and unpretentious—a living legacy woven into the fabric of this place we call home.

The wood anemone is a perennial plant, its rhizomatous growth weaving an intricate tapestry under the dappled sunlight of the forest floor. Each flower arises on its slender stem, surrounded by finely divided trifoliate leaves, their fresh green hue amplifying the purity of the blossoms. The flowers themselves, with their many layers of petal-like sepals, are a marvel of nature’s design, combining elegance and resilience.

The scientific name, Anemone nemorosa, carries echoes of ancient understanding. The genus name Anemone originates from the Greek word ánemos, meaning “wind.” According to classical mythology, these flowers were said to spring forth from the tears of the goddess Venus as she mourned the death of Adonis. The appellation of “windflower” ties to this myth, suggesting that the blooms open only at the bidding of the wind. The species name nemorosa comes from the Latin nemorosus, meaning “of a wooded grove,” aptly describing its preferred habitat.

There is a certain humility in the way the wood anemone thrives—spreading slowly but persistently through deciduous woodlands, forming colonies that greet the spring with their pristine blooms. While the double-flowered variety lacks the simplicity of the single-layered wild form, it retains all the grace that has inspired poets and naturalists alike. It is as if each bloom whispers its secrets to the passing breeze, stories of centuries gone by when druids and herbalists revered the plant as a symbol of protection and healing.

Culturally, the wood anemone has deep roots. In folklore, it was believed to bring luck to those who carried it, while others regarded it as a harbinger of illness if picked prematurely. The flowers were said to close tightly in response to rain, a trait lending them an air of sentience as they interact with their environment.

In medieval herbalism, the plant was thought to possess medicinal properties, though its potent compounds also rendered it toxic if mishandled. It was used cautiously to treat ailments such as rheumatism and respiratory issues. Modern understanding has largely relegated these medicinal uses to history, but the plant’s ability to captivate the senses remains undiminished.

Looking at this verdant patch before me, I am reminded of the transient beauty of spring. Anemone nemorosa emerges briefly, a fleeting celebration of life before retreating into its quiet dormancy beneath the soil. It thrives in the undisturbed spaces of the world, reminding us of the importance of preserving the ecosystems that allow such delicate wonders to flourish.

Today, as the soft May sunlight streams through the trees, illuminating each ruffled blossom, I am filled with gratitude for the enduring gift left by our parents, who lovingly planted these flowers decades ago. The wood anemone, whether viewed as a mythological symbol, a natural marvel, or a fleeting delight, offers a gentle reminder to cherish the beauty that surrounds us. Its ephemeral blooms, returning each spring, stand as a testament to nature’s quiet yet profound artistry—a living masterpiece and a poignant connection to the legacy of those who shaped this cherished landscape here in Ithaca, New York.

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Discovering La Sirena de la Garza at Punta de las Salinas

At Punta del Este, Uruguay, the beauty of the ocean and sculptures creates a profound connection between nature, art, and mythology.

MichaelStephenWills24 Comments

As I stood at the edge of Punta del Este, Uruguay, I marveled at the wild beauty of the place. We were at Punta de las Salinas, the very tip of the peninsula, the edge of where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Río de la Plata. This easternmost point of Uruguay, where time feels suspended as restless waves crash against rocky shores. A sea breeze carries a distinct salty tang.

This is at Great Britain Square, Punta de las Salinas of Punta del Este. We are at the tip of the peninsula, the easternmost point of Uruguay. Punta del Este, Departamento de Maldonado, Uruguay

Pam, my wife, stood beside me, a bright smile on her face as the ocean wind tugged at her sunhat. Behind her, rising among the rocks, was an art installation that seemed to embody the spirit of the place “El Canto de las Sirenas” (The Song of the Mermaids). These sculptures by the artist Lily Perkins, their forms shaped and worn by the elements, appeared almost as though they were natural extensions of the rocky coastline. They gazed out to sea, their haunting beauty a poignant reminder of myth and humanity’s eternal connection with the ocean.

The sirens, crafted with an earthy texture and adorned with bits of marine debris, seemed to tell a story of resilience and adaptation. They stood stoically against the backdrop of the churning waves, their barnacle-like surfaces merging seamlessly with their rugged surroundings. I felt a strange connection to them, as if they were silent witnesses to the ever-changing dance of the sea and sky.

Pam during our 2016 South American tour. This is at Great Britain Square, Punta de las Salinas of Punta del Este. We are at the tip of the peninsula, the easternmost point of Uruguay. Over her shoulder is the art installation “El Canto de las Sirenas” (The Song of the Mermaids) (2012) by the artist Lily Perkins. Punta del Este, Departamento de Maldonado, Uruguay

The morning was perfect for photography. I adjusted my Canon camera, capturing the interplay of light and shadow across the jagged rocks, the turquoise waves, and the statues. The textures of the sirens came alive through the lens, each detail hinting at the passage of time and the endless conversations between water and stone. Pam posed in front of one of the sculptures, her presence adding a touch of humanity to the scene, as though she were part of this mythological tableau.

I took a moment to step back and absorb the scene. The coastline stretched out before me, rugged and raw, with the waves crashing in an eternal rhythm. The sirens belonged here, their forms shaped artist hands, then also by the elements. They merged into this unique place, much like the wind, the rocks, and the ocean.

As we walked along the rocky outcrop, the sound of the waves filled the air, drowning out any other noise. It was easy to lose oneself in the hypnotic patterns of the water, the spray catching the sunlight like tiny jewels. I found myself reflecting on the history of this place—Punta del Este, a meeting point of cultures and stories, a place where the natural world and human creativity converge.

Great Britain Square, where we started this journey, seemed an apt setting for such an installation. The name itself evokes a sense of exploration and connection across vast distances, much like the sirens that seem to call out across the waves. The symbolism was not lost on me as I thought about how we, too, were travelers, drawn to the edges of the earth by a desire to explore and understand.

Plaza Gran Bretana (Great Britain Square) is named for the World War II naval battle near here between the German battleship Graf Spee and the English ships Ajax, Achilles and Exeter. The plaza also has an anchor marking the boundary between Rio de la Plata and the Atlantic Ocean.

Pam and I lingered for a while longer, taking in the scenery and enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. The sculptures seemed almost alive, their forms shifting subtly as the light changed. They reminded me of the stories of sirens from ancient mythology—creatures that lured sailors to their doom with their enchanting voices. But here, they seemed more like guardians, watching over the waters and the land, their presence a testament to the enduring power of art and nature.

As the morning wore on, we made our way back, leaving the sirens behind to their eternal vigil. The experience stayed with me, though, a vivid memory of a place where myth and reality intertwine. Punta de las Salinas, with its rugged beauty and its mysterious sirens, had left an indelible mark on my heart.

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Discovering Fogbows: A Coastal Wonder

I had a haunting experience at Cocoa Beach, witnessing a rare fogbow—a ghostly arc formed by fine mist—evoking emotions and reflections on nature’s beauty.

MichaelStephenWills19 Comments

The fog haunted Cocoa Beach for days, softening the edges of the afternoon. I had been walking along Cocoa Beach, feeling the cool ocean breeze on my face, when I noticed a change in the light. It was a little after four, the sun drifting lower in the western sky, its warmth fading into a hazy glow. The air smelled of salt and mist, and waves lapped gently at the shore, their rhythm unbroken by the deepening fog.

And then I saw it.

A pale arc stretched across the horizon, a ghost of a rainbow bending above the waves. At first, I wondered if my eyes were playing tricks on me—where were the usual bright bands of red, orange, and violet? But no, the arc was real, a fogbow, forming where sunlight met the fine sea mist. Unlike the rainbows that appear after summer storms, this one was almost entirely white, as if the ocean had conjured it from air and silence.

Sailors once whispered of such things—a white rainbow at sea, a sign of hidden land or wandering souls. Some believed it to be a bridge between realms, a fleeting passage where the living and the lost might momentarily brush against one another. Others saw it as an omen, a spectral warning of treacherous fog ahead. I wondered what the mariners of old might have thought, standing at the bow of a ship, watching a pale arc rise from the mist, its edges dissolving like breath against glass.

I stood still, watching, as the science of the moment unfolded before me. Unlike traditional rainbows, which form when light bends through large raindrops, fogbows are born from infinitesimally smaller droplets, often less than 0.1 millimeters in diameter. Their size diffuses the light, scattering it so finely that the colors blend together into a spectral whisper rather than a vibrant shout. The physics of it fascinated me—this was diffraction in action, nature bending light in a way that rendered it nearly colorless.

The effect was surreal. The fogbow arched over the breaking waves like something out of a dream, a halo of sea and sky, momentary yet timeless. It seemed to pulse in the shifting mist, visible one moment, fading the next, as if deciding whether to reveal itself fully or slip back into the fog’s embrace.

For several minutes, I just stood there, taking it in. The world felt different inside that mist, quieter, more reflective. The fog dampened the usual sounds of the beach—the calls of shorebirds, the laughter of distant walkers—leaving only the hush of the waves and the distant hum of the ocean’s breath.

I knew that fogbows were rare, requiring just the right balance of thin fog, moisture, and a low-angled sun. I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time, a witness to something subtle yet profound.

And just as silently as it had appeared, the fogbow began to dissolve. The mist thickened, swallowing its arc, the sky shifting back to its usual muted gray. But the memory of it lingered—a white rainbow over the sea, ephemeral and elusive, like a secret the ocean had briefly chosen to share.

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Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral: Resilience and Devotion in Cork

Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral embodies faith and history through intricate artistry and significant apostolic representations.

MichaelStephenWills5 Comments

As I stood within the hallowed confines of Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral in Cork City, Ireland, I found myself drawn to the intricate artistry that tells the story of faith, resilience, and devotion. The figures and symbols within this magnificent edifice bring to life the history of Saint Fin Barre as well as the broader narrative of Christian tradition and its enduring influence on the region.

Near the entrance, the cylindrical pulpit’s relief figures of five evangelists captured my imagination. Here was the relief of Saint Paul seated with his characteristic sword, a symbol of both his martyrdom and the “sword of the Spirit” from chapter 6, verse 17 of the New Testiment Epistle to the Ephesians. His hand gestures toward the heavens, as if calling upon divine guidance to symbolize his role as an intermediary or messenger of God’s revelation. The rich green of his robes, juxtaposed against the golden background, speaks of hope, growth, and the everlasting promise of salvation. Here I found Saint Paul embodying the courage and conviction needed to preach and defend the faith—a sentiment that resonates deeply in the cathedral’s design and purpose.

Saint Paul

Rounding the circle, another relief brought Saint Mark to life. With the lion at his side, Saint Mark writes intently, reminding us of his contributions to the Gospels. The warm, earthy tones of his attire and the contemplative tilt of his head evoke the diligence and introspection of a writer who draws inspiration from divine revelation. The lion, its expression both fierce and loyal, represents courage and the Gospel’s enduring power.

Saint Mark

The cathedral’s external sculptures echo these individual representations of the apostles, where stone figures silently stand guard at the west entrance. The central figure of my photograph, holding a scroll in his left hand and a long cudgel (club) in his right, is Saint James the Less (also known as James the Minor). The scroll symbolizes his role spreading the word of God. The cudgel alludes to his martyrdom, as tradition holds that his executioners brutally beat him to death with such a club. His serene expression contrasts with Saint Paul, on the left, who holds the traditional “sword of the spirit” of his Epistle to the Ephesians. These carvings are spiritual sentinels, inviting visitors to contemplate the legacy of those who laid the foundations of the Church.

As the patron saint of the city, Saint Fin Barre’s enduring legacy profoundly impacts Cork’s spiritual and cultural history. His legacy dates back to the 7th century when he established a monastic settlement on the site where the cathedral now stands. This sacred location has witnessed centuries of devotion, destruction, and renewal. The visionary architect William Burges designed the cathedral in the 19th century as both a tribute to Saint Fin Barre’s enduring influence and a testament to William Burges’s own artistic genius.

Walking through the cathedral, I felt the interplay of past and present, earth and heaven. These saints and apostles are figures from history, embodiments of virtues and struggles that are timeless. Their stories invite us to reflect on our own faith, perseverance, and the ways we leave our mark on the world.

Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral is a place of worship and a narrative in stone, wood, and glass. The intricate carvings and the evocative sculptures, among much else, create a space that transcends the ordinary. Here, the saints and apostles stand as eternal witnesses to the human journey toward the divine. As I left the cathedral, the image of Saint Paul, resolute and unyielding, stayed with me—a reminder that we must build faith, much like the cathedral itself, stone by stone, moment by moment, to endure the test of time.

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Discovering the Beauty of Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral in Cork

Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral features stunning Victorian Gothic artistry, with symbolic ceilings and intricate designs reflecting divine themes and craftsmanship.

MichaelStephenWills12 Comments

As I stood on the floor of Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral in Cork, Ireland, I gazed upward toward the Apse and sanctuary ceiling at the eastern end. Turning my eyes directly to the west, I found myself captivated by the crossing ceiling—the very heart where the nave intersects with the transepts, forming the iconic cross shape typical of Gothic cathedral architecture.

In my imagination the central tower and spire soared majestically above the crossing ceiling. The ceiling there featured intricate architectural elements like ribbed vaults and a lantern tower, allowing light to flood into the space below. This crossing served as a beautiful transitional space between the sanctuary and the main body of the cathedral, the nave.

Focusing my camera on the Sanctuary Ceiling of Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral, I was struck by the stunning example of Victorian Gothic Revival artistry before me. Designed by the architect William Burges, who envisioned every detail of the cathedral, the ceiling reflected his meticulous attention to detail and his love for vibrant colors and symbolic ornamentation.

The rich iconography drew me in. Angels adorned the ceiling, likely representing the celestial hierarchy or the glorification of Christ. Each angel held symbolic items—trumpets, stars, or scrolls—emphasizing their roles as messengers and worshippers of God.

The radiant color scheme was breathtaking. Deep blues, shimmering golds, lush greens, and vivid reds combined to create a striking visual effect, symbolizing heaven and divine majesty. Gold accents caught and reflected the light, reinforcing the idea of heavenly glory.

Geometric and star patterns embellished the vaults. The blue panels dotted with gold stars symbolized the heavens—a common motif in Gothic church ceilings. These stars seemed to represent divine guidance or eternity, adding another layer of meaning to the already rich tapestry above me.

The structural elements themselves were works of art. Painted ribs intersected across the ceiling, highlighting the Gothic architecture’s ribbed vaulting. Their intricate designs in green and red emphasized both structural beauty and functional elegance.

The symbolism was profound. The angels with their instruments and the starry heavens collectively evoked themes of divine worship and the glory of God’s kingdom. This alignment with the Victorian Gothic ideal of infusing spiritual symbolism into architectural elements was evident in every brushstroke.

Knowing that William Burges envisioned Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral as a “Bible in stone,” I felt a deep connection to his purpose. Standing beneath the Sanctuary Ceiling—the focal point above the altar—I sensed how it served to elevate worshippers’ gaze and spirits toward the divine.

Capturing these scenes through my lens, I was documenting a testament to the artistic and architectural achievements of the 19th century. Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral is a place of worship and also a living gallery of history, faith, and unparalleled craftsmanship.

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Celebrating God’s Love This Christmas

Merry Christmas

MichaelStephenWills18 Comments

As the year draws to a close, our home is filled with the glow of lights, the shimmer of cherished ornaments, and the spirit of the season. Each decoration holds a memory, from angels watching over us to the Nativity scene that reminds us of the humble birth of Christ, our Savior.

This Christmas, we celebrate the greatest gift of all: God’s love made manifest through the birth of Jesus Christ. May the peace of His presence fill your hearts and homes, bringing comfort, joy, and hope that transcends all seasons.

As we gather with loved ones, let us remember the message of the angels: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men.”

From our family to yours, may this holy season be a time of deep gratitude, boundless love, and renewed faith in the light that shines in the darkness.

Pam’s Christmas Decorations 2024

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