Spring Beauty: Like Breath before Song

On a mild, early March morning, we're following a gently inclining hillside path, through woodland poised between slumber and wakening, across a palette mingling taupe and gray repose with tender sprout and sprightly green. We're moving slowly and looking closely because here— here and there— we're finding spring beauty, with its delicate, pearl and rose-dust petals arrayed amidst hay-scented fern, ivy leaf speedwell, wild orchid leaves, wind moss, and fallen branches. We take care that our footsteps fall only on the trail, for Claytonia virginica blooms randomly across this tumbled slope— in a garden not of our design but broadly in our protection. Both foliage and flower will withdraw to woodland floor by late spring, but this morning, spring beauty seems both a harbinger and a lovely traveler between seasons— like a pause before dancing, a breath before song, a feather quill-pen trembling in the breeze before poetry.

As our pace slows to pausing and our senses become attuned to the hillside, we discover that we're not the only wanderers drawing winter-to-spring inspiration and sustenance from spring beauty. We spot a small, solitary bee reveling in a receptive bloom. The spring beauty mining bee, we've learned, has a special relationship with spring beauty, its biorhythm and habit intimately connected to the life cycle of the dainty woodland ephemeral.  Even as clusters of spring beauty open wide with midday sunshine and close by nightfall or with cloud cover, Andrena erigeniae nests in nearby leaf litter and forest debris, diligently collecting pink pollen from late morning to early afternoon to feed larvae, keenly aware of light conditions and local pollen supply. We wonder at both the bloom and the bee, so very small but beautifully connected and doing important work during the transition between winter and spring. — B.

Spring Beauty—

bowing
low in shadow,
then lifting to sunlight,
each blushing white, finely-veined bloom,
waking—
waiting—
each starry-shape pastel flower
on the hillside, watching
for wanderers
and bees.
 
Good Morning—

— B.

 

The last days of February and the first days of March are a time of transitional weather for the Mid-Atlantic United States— it is not unusual to wake up to a snowstorm one day and picnic-worthy sunshine the next. The spring beauty wildflower thrives in this transition.  The perennial herb, easily recognized by its star-shaped white-pink flowers, is often found in wooded areas of the central and eastern US mountains. As a first bloomer, it offers itself up as critical nourishment for hungry insects and animals who wake early from their winter hibernation. Indigenous peoples and early settlers also used the spring beauty as a source of food and medicine when little else was growing. Conservationists usually discourage harvesting the plant nowadays, but we can still appreciate it as a symbol of promise in the face of change. Spring beauty plays this role in the Ojibwe legend of Peboan and Seegwun. When Old man Peboan, the Spirit of Winter, is visited in his lodge by young man Seegwun, the Spirit of Spring, it slowly becomes clear that only one will carry on forward. As the two talk and share a pipe, Peboan grows weaker and Seegwun strengthens. With the dawn of a new day, Old Man Peboan finally melts into water, yielding to spring, and leaving behind only a beautiful cluster of miscodeed— the Ojibwe word for spring beauty flowers. — D.

 

Seasonal transitions bring changes in weather, temperature, landscape, and light that impact individuals in different ways. All transitions require us to let go of the familiar and adjust to something new. This takes energy— even if the change is something we consider positive. Reflect on the spring beauty as a symbol of promise through transition. How do you usually feel about the change from winter to spring? Consider the past winter: what were the major events of the season for you? What do you want to remember? Are there any unnecessary burdens that you might release? Looking ahead, what events are coming up for you in the spring? How do you hope to spend your precious time and energy? Consider the ideas of gratitude and contentment. Right now, as the season starts to turn, what is one thing you are grateful for in your life? What is something you are content with, just the way it is? — D.

from To the Miscodeed

Sweet pink of northern wood and glen,

E'er first to greet the eyes of men

In early spring,— a tender flower

Whilst still the wintry wind hath power....

—Jane Johnston Schoolcraft, 1800-1842, Native Ojibwe poet and writer