Wild Orchid

for Lady Jane Grey

Begin with a seed
            wind-caught, falling
Bind to mycelium
             finding, feeding
Underground burrow
            time-hushed, sleeping
In quiet veneration
             rain-soaked, softened
Rosette amulet
                 a window-eye watching
Marks eight winters passing
                          as the forest is pining
For a blossoming tower
                 with rhizomes rising
 A time for crowning has come
                O wild orchid!
 Petaled scepter
               for the Nine Days Queen
Hear the swordsman coming
                              this temporary ending
Take heart;
                
                     your seeds are flying
     

Dear One,

I’ve passed by these lovely green and white etched leaves for several years now, without knowing their story. What a surprise to suddenly find them in bloom—tall stems crowned in fuzzy white blossoms. Turns out, this is Downy Rattlesnake Plantain, which is not a plantain at all, but a native wild orchid. It’s named for the delicate pattern of its soft green leaves, more lace-like than snake-like to my eye.

Like many other beautiful lifeforms, this orchid depends upon the nourishment of a partner organism. In the autumn, after the flowers are spent, the dust-like seeds of the dying orchid are released to the wind by the millions. They must land and bind to Rhizoctonia fungus which will nourish the seedlings through two cycles of leaf production. The leaves grow in a low, rosette pattern, while its rhizome just below the surface gathers the energy to bloom. This can take up to 10 years!

I was so happy to see this fabled flower raise its scepter, and take its brief place on the forest’s ever-changing stage. And so, I wrote a poem to mark the final chapter of this plant’s life along the trail, and also to remember Lady Jane Grey, who was Queen of England for just nine days from July 10 -19, 1553.

Many of us have been in a creative lull as of late. A fallow season of rest and gathering strength, perhaps? I love the way the microseasons invite us to a new beginning every five days. As we enter a new small window of time, may you be surprised by something wondrous, completely fresh and novel to you. Perhaps it’s a project or a partnership—something which may have been quietly growing for a very long time.

I’ll see you in a new microseason.

xo Ann