SHARING THE MAGIC OF THE LAND
A self-proclaimed “plant nerd” indulges her love of the natural world.
I’d been sick for a month. Being confined to the house in early summer 2018 was difficult, so when I’d recovered enough by July to go for a walk with my boyfriend, Erik, I couldn’t get into his truck fast enough. We headed for the pasture on land that has been owned by my family for more than 60 years. We parked on the lease road and as I stepped out onto the gravel, I felt like I could breathe freely for the first time in weeks.
We loaded up our picnic and put on our backpacks. A short jaunt through the lush barley crop took us to the electric fence, which we stepped over very carefully. The pungent aroma of wolf willow (Elaeagnus commutata) followed us as we made our way down the fence line, heading north. To our right was a grove of aspens (Populus tremuloides) that had been damaged by a plow wind a few years ago. Some were twisted and broken, while others were rooted out of the ground, leaving gaping holes where their root balls had been. Wrens had moved into the carnage and constructed homes in holes left behind by woodpeckers, and they scolded us as we walked through the tall grass. When we reached the big red rock—removed from the upland fields by one of my ancestors—we headed down the open draw to the coulee bottom.
The delicate scent of a thousand wild roses surrounded us as we spread our blanket and enjoyed our homegrown lettuce and tomato sandwiches. For being early evening, it was curiously devoid of mosquitoes. Chickadees and a plethora of songbirds filled the air with their music as we packed up and followed a deer trail along the bottom of the tree line in the soft light of the coulee shadow. The trail forked, and we took the well-travelled path
A self-proclaimed ‘plant nerd’ explores her love of the natural world
down through the buckbrush (Symphoricarpos occidentalis) to the beaver dam. A pair of mallard ducks angrily speed walked across the water of the dam before catching enough lift to fly away. As I watched their flight, a splash of orange under a willow caught my eye. I drew back a branch expecting to see an old leaf, but instead exposed a beautiful western wood lily (Lilium philadelphicum). That was when my boyfriend discovered what a plant nerd is!
I’d never seen a western wood lily in person before, and finding one in the pasture was a gift I wasn’t about to pass up. I didn’t quite throw my backpack at Erik, or cry with joy, but I did take dozens of pictures. I even stood and stared for a few moments, hardly believing my eyes. As with all things in nature, I took only photos and memories, leaving the plant to grow and thrive.
After the excitement died down to short exclamations of disbelief, I was stepping over a fallen tree and nearly stumbled. An orchid! Where I’d been about to place my foot, grew a well camouflaged northern green orchid (Platanthera hyperborea). I have a special place in my heart for these little plants, as they were the first species of orchid I’d ever found in the wild. One day, I’d been on my way back to my truck, and took a detour where I found an entire community of them growing by the creek, intermixed with heal all (Prunella vulgaris) and saline shooting stars (Dodecatheon pulchellum). I relayed that story to Erik as we continued our walk until the setting sun forced us back to the farmyard. As I told my grandma about the lily the next day, I started thinking about the importance of this particular piece of land. The saline shooting star plants were first introduced to me by my grandpa as I tagged along on cattle-checking chores as a young child. Those cheerful pink flowers were the start of a lifetime love for native forbs and unbroken prairie lands. Other than my chosen passion as a farmer, plants have led me through my post secondary education, and to working with our local land conservation charity. That charity has furthered my knowledge of healthy ecosystems and taught me how it is possible for everyone to make a difference by volunteering their time, knowledge and creativity.
Everyone who visits senses how special this rare parcel of land is; it’s surrounded by mostly cultivated land, and it has never been broken. While the lands around it have changed, the pasture has remained as it was generations ago, giving us a glimpse into what the land was like before it was settled. It’s located in an ecologically sensitive area due to its topography and is part of an important wildlife corridor in a fragmented landscape. As native parkland prairie, it is some of the most diverse, yet least protected land in the province.
Erik, now my husband, has gotten used to my excited races through the house to my plant books because he understands the happiness I get with each new discovery. I owe my grandpa for pointing out that single flower so long ago. As the years pass by, I’m truly blessed to be able to share the magic of the land and its flowers with my family and friends. n