April showers bring may flowers.
Except in Texas where the weather does whatever it wants and all the maxims in the world won’t change it.
Around where I live, flower season sometimes starts in February. Other years, the February scenery is pretty arctic. Either way, most of our beautiful native plants are blooming in March. So earlier this month I dusted off my camera and revived my photography hobby for a day.
It took me a while to actually upload the snapshots to my computer. Then a little longer to go on a bookcase quest around the house to find my little red wildflower guide. As I finally flipped through its color-coded pages last night, I made an interesting discovery that led me in a different direction with this post than I’d originally expected.
Two of the flowers that have always grown wild where my family lives are listed under names I’ve never heard. I decided to focus on those flowers. The local, native names are so delightful and much more charming than the official names given in the guidebook.
Starting with the flower that is the first to bloom and the most prolific at my house, we have the Drummond Wild Onion. Unless your name happens to be Drummond, that leaves something to be desired. We call these little flowers Society Garlic. There are so many of these in my yard that just walking around among them releases their aroma. I loved picking these as a kid because there were so many of them. I could pluck a whole bouquet without diminishing the pinkish field of them.
I have no idea why we call them Society Garlic. Maybe because they grow in such large groups. Maybe because their violet-pink, crepe paper petals and thin leaves make them more sophisticated than regular garlic. All I know is that I might have been less fond of them if my mother had rattled off “why, Drummond wild onions, of course,” when I first asked what they were.
Dakota Vervain may sound like the stage name of a rodeo star, but it’s actually a variety of wild verbena. The photo does not do justice to how purple these flowers are. In the bright sun, they look like pops of neon scattered across the grass.
The name I’ve always used for these is Sweet Williams. This name is so lovely. I like to think that some young girl gathered these flowers to give to her beloved William because their nectar was a sweet as he was. I remember being shown how to suck the nectar out of the petals as a child. I don’t remember it being very much, but I was delighted with the idea of drinking from a flower.
Finally, since this is a Texas wildflower post, I have to include a Bluebonnet :)
Comments