In the undisturbed Oregon woods of my youth, springing up near a seasonal stream, we spotted a Pacific trillium. There was more than one, but so often they will appear that way, solitary. A single, perfect, three-petaled flower atop a three-leaved stem. Startling white against the dark understory of green and brown, so pure and surprising.
We were told of the trillium: enjoy but don't touch. "Do not cut these special flowers, they won't grow back for seven years!" Adding to their mystery, trilliums appear in the season of Lent and often bloom just in time for Easter. Surely it was significant that this elegant flower, so fleeting, was triune: symbolism practically made for religious myth and celebration. Nearly as remarkable, the flower wouldn't merely turn brown as it faded like most blooms, but purple. As if to say, you thought I was done with the symbolism, check this out.
Pictured: 'Wake-robin' (one of the many common names for Western Trillium) - a mosaic of glass smalti, 10"w x 12"h.
We were told of the trillium: enjoy but don't touch. "Do not cut these special flowers, they won't grow back for seven years!" Adding to their mystery, trilliums appear in the season of Lent and often bloom just in time for Easter. Surely it was significant that this elegant flower, so fleeting, was triune: symbolism practically made for religious myth and celebration. Nearly as remarkable, the flower wouldn't merely turn brown as it faded like most blooms, but purple. As if to say, you thought I was done with the symbolism, check this out.
Pictured: 'Wake-robin' (one of the many common names for Western Trillium) - a mosaic of glass smalti, 10"w x 12"h.