July 19, 1990 - Out Back, Where the Wildflowers PlayJuly 19, 1!jgu • the Suffolk Times C11
Out Back, Where the Wildflowers Play
By Paul Stoutenburah
During the summer there's so much
to see we often overlook our own back-
yard. This was pointed out to me today
as I walked over to my daughter's house
just through the woods. There, along-
side the path were clusters of Indian
pipes. These ghost -like flowers and
stems are one of nature's oddities for
they flourish without the aid of sunlight
and therefore lack of any trace of green.
The stems are scaly and the single white
flower nods above the waxy plant be-
low. The reason for its ability to sur-
vive without the life - giving properties
of chlorophyll's green is that it gets its
entire food supply from decayed litter
generated in the forest floor.
Like all plants, conditions must be
just right for these plants to break
through the forest duff and blossom.
The right temperature, the right food
supply, in this case probably a decayed
stump or limb of a tree that was buried
and, of course, that most important in-
gredient water which we've had a goodly
share of this year. Like all flowers the
white petals and stems of these unusual
plants ripen soon after they've been fer-
tilized by insects. Then the opposite
coloration takes place. The flowers that
had been nodding up to now turn
upward and along with the stem change
to the opposite color — black. Then
they'll dry in their rigid upright
position until time and weather dissolve
them, like all the forest debris, into
soil.
Composting Part of Life
I've often mentioned this cycle of de-
cay and tried to emphasize the impor-
tance of this life - giving process to the
world we live in. It can be most easily
understood if we relate it to the forest.
Here there's no man-made fertilizer ap-
plied but by the dropping of leaves in
the fall and discarding old and un- needed
limbs that are later decomposed, the for-
est feeds itself, adding minerals and nu-
trients it gathers from its roots. When
you think about it, you can see it's a
pretty perfect system, one which the
world is slowly realizing in its accep-
tance of composting at many of our
landfills.
For me composting goes back to
when I was a child and transportation
was less available. We disposed of all
our own waste. Our garbage was com-
posted in the backyard where my Dad re-
ligiously turned over and added soil to
the daily leftovers. Later this rich com-
post would be used on his beloved gar-
Focus on
Nature
den. Our tin cans and bottles in those
days were reused wherever possible and
the extras buried in a big pit off in our
woods. I can remember one time look-
ing in and seeing a skunk milling
around below. That was in the days
when we had skunks here on the East
End. We no longer have them because
of the early misuse of insecticides. How
he got down there, I'll never know and
how he ever got out I'll never know,
but it was something we kids all
gathered about to see.
Wildflowers Were Scarce
In those early days I don't remember
too many wild flowers around our home
for it was in the woods and shade ruled
all but a small cleared spot where my
dad had his garden. We all knew where
the lady slippers grew, for they were a
must to see each spring. We were never
allowed to pick them for we were told
that if you did the plant would die. I'm
afraid that was one of those white lies
parents told children in hopes of
preserving the flowers. Arbutus or
maypink was a different story. The first
few flowers of this wonderfully - scented
ground- hugging plant when brought
into the house would fill the room with
its delicate breath of spring. In those
days there were no regulations as to
what you could pick and what you
couldn't. Today there's a long list of
"Don't Pick" including our lovely lady
slipper and arbutus for they are
becoming less and less available as our
land becomes more and more developed.
Another flower we all knew was mot-
tled pipsissewa. Its evergreen leaf with
its pale white stripe down the middle
and waxy white flower still catches my
eye today whenever I walk through the
woods. Of course there was the occa-
sional wild dogwood that if given a lit-
tle light from the sun would add its
glow to the woods but the earliest
bloom was that of the shadblow. When
I was a kid it seemed to always be
growing along the creek fronts where
we kids would play. Later we'd get to
know its berries for they were good to
eat and tasted almost like blueberries.
Our woods had the low bush blueberry
which, of course, we all ate and thought
you got chiggers from. It's common
throughout our East End and is
probably the most prevalent of all
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Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
INDIAN PIPES— Because this three- to six -inch tall plant does not use
the sun to make chlorophyll like other plants, its color is ghostly white
instead of green. Its nutrients come from decayed matter it feeds on
below the forest floor.
edible berries.
Perhaps another time we'll reminisce
about the roadside flowers that take ad-
vantage of the sunlit clearing the high-
ways provide. These highways also pro-
vide another important service and that
is the dispersing of seeds. Seeds are
picked up by people, animals, cars and
whatever travels along the roads and
drops them off here and there. This is
how our roadside plantings are started
when there is no cultivation by man.
These are generally plants introduced
from Europe such as the daisy, Queen
Anne's lace, chicory and others that are
considered our wildflowers. I have no
problem with that but our own native
wildflowers like those referred to above
hold a special place in my book and
therefore they come first.
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