Do You Know This Man?

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If you’re a fan of canoe country, you’ve probably stumbled across some photos of our buddy, Andrew. Last year, he served as the poster boy for the first annual Boundary Waters Canoe Expo. Over the years his photo has also appeared in numerous other advertisements for Visit Cook County and Tuscarora. You’ve also seen him in our post about 20-somethings going on canoe trips.

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But who is this man of mystery so often spied in the bow of a Souris River Quetico 17?

Andrew Quetico portage

Andrew, Andy, and I all worked together at Hungry Jack Outfitters back in the “Aughts.” He comes from “canoeing stock” – his mom worked on the Gunflint Trail as a young adult – and as a teenager, he did many canoe trips through Camp Menogyn, including a five week trip through the Canadian wilderness. Since our Hungry Jack days, the three of us have covered a lot of miles together, from roaming around Portland, OR to running Chicago’s Shamrock Shuffle this past spring (FYI: Andrew can run 8 km 14 minutes faster than I can), and, of course, he and Andy have gone on lots and lots of trips through Quetico Provincial Park.

Right now, Andrew is a biology PhD student at the University of Michigan where he focuses on the venom systems of mollusks. The end goal of his research is to create a way that the venom of mollusks can be used as human medicine, particularly as a side-effect free anesthesia. He spends a portion of each summer collecting cone snails for research from the bottom of the Pacific Ocean off Japanese or Samoan coasts.

Despite research that takes him around the world, back at the end of May, Andrew and his girlfriend, Clara, managed to carve out a week to spend in the Quetico. As you can see from the map below, they just did a teeny, tiny, little trip:

Andy and Andrew are known for their high mileage Quetico trips and Clara wanted to be sure that Andrew didn’t take it easy on her just because it was her first canoe trip. A quick gander at the map shows that Andrew did not let Clara’s lack of canoe trip experience impact the trip’s distance. In six days and five nights, they paddled 80+ miles. Oh, did I mention that Andrew and Clara had both run marathons two days before the start of their canoe trip? Obviously, these are not two people who are afraid of high mileage!

After a towboat ride from the Tuscarora dock on Saganaga Lake up to Hook Island on the Canadian side of Saganaga, Andrew and Clara paddled over to the Cache Bay Ranger Station to pick up their permit for the Man Chain. From Cache Bay, they headed up past Silver Falls, into Saganagons, and into the Man Chain which they followed down to Carp Lake and the International Border.

Quetico Loons Rafting

Loons rafting on This Man Lake

Quetico Canoe Portage landing

After paddling a few miles west on the border, they went over Prairie Portage and then cut back up into the Canadian interior via Sunday Bay in Basswood Lake. As they headed east back towards their starting point, they passed through Agnes, Louisa, McEwen, and Wet Lakes, before finally heading south via Saganagons and Cache Bay.

Andrew Quetico campsite
Quetico Tent View

Despite a wide variety of temperatures and weather that characterizes this spring, they had a great trip. In her first visit to Superior/Quetico country, Clara managed to see more of canoe country than some people see in years of BWCAW and Quetico canoe trips. A trip of this magnitude certainly isn’t for everyone, but these two, it worked just fine.

Quetico Portage
Clara Quetico

What’s the longest canoe trip you’ve ever done?

Blue Nights on the Gunflint Trail

Blue Nights on Round Lake, Gunflint Trail

“In certain latitudes there comes a span of time approaching and following the summer solstice, some weeks in all, when the twilights turn long and blue . . . .  You find yourself swimming in the color blue: the actual light is blue, and over the course of an hour or so this blue depends, becomes more intense even as it darkens and fades. . . . The French called this time of day “l’heure blue.” To the English it was “the gloaming.” The very word “gloaming” reverberates, echoes — the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamour – carrying in its consonants the images of houses shuttering, gardens darkening, grass-lined rivers slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights, you think the end of days will never come.”  – Joan Didion

I checked out Joan Didion’s Blue Nights on a whim last week and was struck by how in the very first chapter, she managed to articulate a seasonal concept that I’ve always felt, but never been able to name. There’s a certain magic and promise in the long days and short nights that mark the weeks on either end of the summer solstice. It’s as though the world decided to give our summer days a little more length and a little more poignancy because of how very short our summer season is. Yet I’ve never had a way of describe this time of year beyond “summer,” which is too open-ended a descriptor to really sum up how the season really feels. But considering that here in canoe country, we immerse ourselves in the color blue all summer long, “blue nights” is a most apt description for Minnesota summer. We paddle and play in blue, we swim in blue, we sleep in blue. It’s a season both delicate and fearless, filled with a sense of “if not now, when?”

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As Didion notes, “Blue nights are the opposite of the dying of the brightness, but they are also its warning.” Soon enough, we’ll be trying out that new overnight oats recipe, pulling out the wool sweaters, making our homes snug as the breeze rustles an autumnal chill through the aspen and birch leaves.

But for now, the hygge days are far away.

During these blue nights, we anchor our boats and cast for walleye and bass until the sun disappears completely behind the far shoreline of Round Lake. We let the summer breeze blow through the cabin curtains all night long. We marvel at legions of dragonflies soaring overhead. We watch the loons dive around our canoe. The birds chirp long into the evening and the evening air smells of roses and other wildflowers.

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We know this won’t last forever. We soak it up and wring as much summery goodness as we can from these golden days and blue, blue nights.

10 Reasons to Canoe Trip as a 20-something

10 Reasons Millennials should Canoe Trip

For decades, the U.S. Forest Service and paddling enthusiasts have been bemoaning the moribund state of canoe country visitors. A 2011 USFS survey of Boundary Waters visitors placed the average age of BWCAW campers at 45 years old – a stark contrast to a 1969 survey that pitted the average at 26 years old.

But in our business, we see loads of younger adults using and enjoying the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. In fact, considering all the data we’ve read and heard anecdotally about the Boundary Waters and Quetico only being used by “old men,” we were a little shocked at just how young the average Tuscarora guest is.

If you never visited the Boundary Waters as a child, your 20s are a great time to discover this beloved wilderness area. We think every 20-something should experience wilderness canoe tripping. Here’s our top 10 reasons why young adults, and really anyone contemplating a first-time canoe trip, should take the plunge, er, we mean, paddle.

 

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Paddle your own canoe: You might have felt like an adult in college, but it turns out “real life” is a little more complicated than juggling your class schedule, homework, work study job, and funtivities. Suddenly you’re making decisions about your retirement account and starting to pay back those student loans. What the heck?! Canoe trips bolster self-confidence, improves your mood, and reduces psychological illness. After doing a Boundary Waters canoe trip where you rely solely on your own body and mind to get you and your gear from Point A to Point B, you’ll feel like you can conquer the world.
Agnes Lake Quetico summer canoe trip

 

A vacation you can afford: Canoe trips are one of the most affordable vacations you can take. A completely outfitted 4 day/3 night canoe trip with ultralight Kevlar canoes will cost you less than $500 in northeastern Minnesota’s fabled Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness or Ontario’s Quetico Provincial Park. That means all you need to worry about is your personal clothing and transportation to the outfitters – the food, canoe, paddles, lifejackets, tent, packs, etc., is all included in the ticket price. The price is even lower if you can bum some camping gear off of friends and family. Kevlar canoes rent for less than $50 per day and aluminum canoes rent for even less.

(Check out our personal gear checklist to see what you’ll be responsible for packing. Wondering about the vittles we’ll be packing? Here’s the camping menu.)

Make lifetime memories: Beautiful sunsets. Loons calling across the lake on a moonlight evening. Catching a walleye on your first cast. That time your best friend swamped the canoe reaching for the selfie stick at the portage landing. The memories you make in canoe country will bring a smile for years to come.

 

Portaging through the Cavity Wildfire area in 2006

 

You won’t ever be any younger than you are right now: While not necessarily strenuous, canoe trips do demand a certain physical rigor. We hear from so many people who have “aged out” of canoe trips or who have had to cut down on their canoe trip mileage significantly with each passing year, or rather, each passing knee surgery. Don’t pencil that 14-day wilderness canoe adventure you’re dreaming of for some foggy “someday.” Do it now, while your body is strong, tough, and forgiving.

Refresh and restore your creativity: Adulting can be monotonous and mind numbing at times. At the end of the workday, you might find yourself sacked out on the couch watching reruns rather than finishing the novel you swore you’d have done by now or starting your “insert favorite activity here” company. Happily, a study that psychologist Dr. Frank Ferraro of Nebraska Wesleyan University did in the Boundary Waters shows that time in the woods can jumpstart creativity and other cognitive activities. That research is backed up by many other studies, so throw a notepad and sketchbook in your personal pack and prepare to be inspired.

 

Quetico fishing for Northern Pike

 

Get cracking on your bucket list: The Boundary Waters consistently does well on travel bucket lists. As America’s most popular wilderness area, the Boundary Waters made it into the first edition of 1000 Places to See Before You Die and Huffington Post named the BWCA the one thing you must do in Minnesota.

Make adventure a habit: A life of adventure doesn’t just happen. You need to consistently make the decision to break out of the 9-5 grind. An annual canoe trip might be just the thing to help shape a life of exploration and discovery. Combined, the Boundary Waters and Quetico covers more than 2 million acres of North American wilderness so you could visit these special places every year for decades and see a new section of the wilderness on each trip.

 

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Challenge yourself: According to happiness expert, Gretchen Rubin, we’re happiest when we exist in a state of growth. Don’t think you can paddle 25 miles and carry your canoe and all the gear and food you need over 20 portages? Prove yourself wrong. You’ll be so happy you did.

Disconnect to connect: If you’re tired of getting together with your friends and just watching everyone poke at their phones around the restaurant table, it might time to head to canoe country. Your cell phone won’t work here and you’ll have time to truly connect and go with the natural flow of life, without being a slave to the “refresh” button. Bonus: too much time in front of blue screens is a known cause of insomnia and studies show that camping can reset your biological clock, so you could sleep better while you’re camping.

 

 

Reevaluate priorities: You’ll probably look at life a little differently after a canoe trip. It’s fascinating to see all the items you need to survive a week in the wilderness fit in a couple packs at the bottom of a canoe. Although millennials are notorious for having much less attachment to “stuff” and life’s material trappings than their baby boomer parents, you might find that a canoe trip has you rethinking the things that are truly important in life.

Did/do you canoe trip in your 20s? What would you add to this list?

BWCA Trip Report: Granite River in High Water

Tuscarora Granite River Canoe Route

Since late winter, my friend Kati and I have been trying to plan a quick canoe trip. Like most canoe trips, even though it was just the two of us, it took a little finagling to sync up our schedules. Last week, we managed to carve out a sliver of time for a two day canoe trip and decided to tackle the Granite River Route. Kati’d paddled the route once during her three seasons as a canoe guide at Wilderness Canoe Base and I’d flirted with the route (aka a day trip to Sag Falls and another day trip to Clove Lake via Larch Creek) but had never paddled it in full.

DAY 1

14:25 – Kati rolls into Tuscarora. We quickly transfer all of her personal items into the gear pack that Andy and I threw together the night before.

14:50 – Depart Tuscarora for the Cross River Bridge on the North Gunflint Lake Road.

15:05 – Load the canoe and paddle off.

Kati near the Cross River Bridge on Gunflint Lake

We pass through the Gunflint Narrows into Magnetic Lake, but go through too quickly to really get a look at the trestle remnants hiding under the water from the old railroad bridge that spanned Gunflint Lake in the late 1800s. In Magnetic Lake, we pass our second historical highlight  – the Swiss Chalet style cabin on Gallagher’s Island. This unique cabin was built in the 1920s by the Gallagher family and it’s been carefully maintained ever since. Because it’s a private residence, we didn’t want to paddle right next to it, so our pictures don’t show how very cute it is, even from a distance.

Chalet Cabin on Magnetic Lake's Gallagher's Island

16:00 – Turn the corner and officially enter the Boundary Waters (although we missed the sign) and the Granite River. Reach our first portage of the day and spot the first of countless international border markers dotting the route. About 9 inches of rain had fallen on the Gunflint Trail in the last few weeks, so the portages are a little sloppy and/or flooded.

Canada/U.S. International Boundary Marker on the Granite River

16:40 – After another short portage, (and a slight bushwhacking stint) we arrive at the base of Little Rock Falls and snap some photos. Nourished from a quick handful of GORP, we soldier on. Thankfully, in June you have about 18 hours of daylight to paddle in each day, so we have plenty of time to set up camp yet.

Little Rock Falls between Magnetic Lake and the Granite River along the Gunflint Trail

17:15 – Arrive Wood Horse portage. There are moccasin flowers, false lily of the valley, and other spring wildflowers everywhere!

Paddling the Granite River between Little Rock Falls and Clove Lake

18:15 – We paddle by the Granite River’s first campsite, near where the Pine River flows in. The site is up on a high rock face and is uninhabited. We decide to press on and see if there are any open sites on Clove Lake. Halfway down the portage, we see that the campsite across the lake is occupied and hear voices coming from the other campsite near the portage. Neither of us had any desire to camp in the campsite on the far side of the lake (it has a great beach, but is a buggy site this time of year), so we turn around.

19:00 – Return to Pine River campsite. Unload gear. Grab pots and pans and paddle to the widest part of the river to fill up on water.

19:10 – I set up stove in the Pine River campsite, put water on to boil for supper. Kati scopes out tent pads.

19:20 – Water boils. Stir in red beans and rice mix with slices of bratwurst. Turn pot down to a simmer. Attempt to figure out how to set up Andy’s “Big Agnes” 2-person tent.

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19:40 – Test supper. Done! Take off heat, put water on to boil for dishes and to put in Nalgene bottles to cool over night for drinking the next morning. Return to tent pad to stake out tent.

19:45 – Dinner is served.

20:00 – Clean up campsite, tuck canoe behind trees for the night. Enjoy a spectacular sunset.

Granite River Boundary Waters sunset

21:10 – Turn in for the night

DAY 2

Corydalis on Granite River BWCAW campsite

Wake up to very noisy chickadees singing in the trees above our tent. Based on the light coming into the tent, figure it must be around 7 a.m. Go back to sleep.

07:10 – Decide to get going. Both shocked to discover that it’s only 7. Head out to the fire grate to put on water for oatmeal and tea.

08:00 – Enjoy a leisurely breakfast in the sunshine on the rock face overlooking the glass-calm Granite River. Realize that in a string of rainy, cold days we’ve somehow won the weather lottery for our short trip.

08:30 – Start packing up the campsite. We pause to take a lot of photos around the site, especially of the trio of moccasin flowers blooming towards the back of the site.

Pink Moccasin flowers blooming in the BWCA Gunflint Trail

09:20 – Slather on sunscreen and don ridiculous sun hats. Paddle to Clove Lake portage.

09:30 – Start the Clove Lake portage for the second time in as many days. Over breakfast, we decided against single portaging and I have a much happier portage than the night before. While I run back for the food pack, Kati stays at the Clove Lake side of the portage and repacks the gear pack so it rests better on her back so she can have happier portages for the rest of the day too.

10:20 – Paddle across Clove Lake. Both the southern campsites are full. This proves to be the most people we see all day.

11ish – Arrive at portage. Quickly discover that the first half of the 40 rod portage is ankle deep in squelching, boot swallowing muck, aka loon sh!t. We persevere and treat ourselves with several handfuls of GORP and big drinks of water at the portage’s end.

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11:40 – Push off again and enjoy a quiet paddle through an especially scenic portion of the river. After the mucky state of the last portage, neither of us is any big rush to make it to “Swamp Portage.”

12:00 – Arrive Swamp Portage. Not as bad as we had feared. A little buggy, sure, and the end of the portage is basically a river, but we spy tadpoles and frogs swimming in the portage pools and beautiful marsh marigold foliage frames the portage boardwalk.

Granite River portage, high water in June

12:25 – Feeling, to quote Winnie-the-Pooh, a little “11 o’clockish,” we decide to press on to Gneiss Lake before breaking for lunch. This means two more portages and a tricky bit of current stand between us a summer sausage and cheese sandwich lunch.

12:40 – Reach Granite River portage. Warmed by the first sunlight we’ve had in week, dragonfly nymphs are hatching near the portage landings. Bad news for mosquitoes – good news for campers!

Dragonfly nymph hatch in the Boundary Waters

13:00 – Around the corner from the portage, we navigate through the one bit of real current on the Granite River that you don’t portage around. We head for the deep center of the river and are merrily whisked down the river. Wheee!! Like going down a waterside! In the widening in the river after the current, we spy a pair of loons – the one creature Kati was hoping to see on the trip.

13:40 – We finish the Gneiss Lake portage and start looking for a campsite to eat lunch at on Gneiss Lake. The primo campsite on the island is taken and its residents are fishing nearby, so we settle on lunch on the rock face of the most northern campsite on the lake.

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14:20 – We pack up lunch and start making our way towards Devil’s Elbow and Marabouef Lake. We still haven’t decided if we’re going to camp on the Granite River or on one of the island sites on Saganaga near Sag Falls. We have to meet a towboat at Sag Falls at noon the next day, so making it to Sag means a quiet, slow morning tomorrow, but two more portages today. On the other hand, it feels pretty good to think that all the day’s portaging is already behind us.

We make our way slowly through the Devil’s Elbow and Marabouef Lake, swinging by each campsite to check it out.

15:50 – Find ourselves at the northern most peninsula with campsites on Marabouef Lake. Figure we can be on Sag by 6, but opt instead to camp on the last campsite on Marabouef, a north facing site tucked into a quiet bay.

16:40 – Do a water run, start boiling water and setting up camp.

18:20 – Enjoy a fine camp dinner of Pesto Pasta Primavera with Salmon. We don’t feel like bothering with a fire, so we just break s’more ingredients into our chocolate pudding and call that good enough.

Marabouef Lake campsite

19:00 – Clean up campsite. We cool off our Nalgenes filled with boiled water by putting them on a stringer and floating them in the lake. We take a gander at the map and try to determine when we need to depart the campsite the next morning to make it to Sag Falls by noon.

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21:00 – Bedtime.

DAY 3

07:00 – Wake up. Slower start than the day before. No need to boil water, since we just need cold water to mix into our granola and neither of us are coffee drinkers.

08:00 – Start taking down the campsite.

09:15 – Depart campsite. The wind’s picked up and we have to paddle hard to turn the corner into the southerly wind. Once we’re headed the right direction though, the wind pushes us up the river towards our final destination. We stop paddling for a minute and realize that with the wind, we could reach Sag Falls in time for our pick up, even without paddling another stroke. Dark storm clouds start to gather and thunder rumbles in the background. We notice taller trees where the Sag Corridor Fire of 1995 burned the river.

10:10 – Reach Horsetail Rapids portage. Pull on rain pants and jacket. Start portage.

10:15 – Downpour starts.

10:20 – Downpour ends. I’m now hanging out on the base of lone cedar tree in the middle of calf deep water with the canoe on my shoulders. There’s a 30 ft. section of calf deep water covering the portage trail to the canoe landing on the other side of the portage. I can’t see how deep the water is and I really don’t want to slip in the water or onto the steep rock face next to the water with a Kevlar canoe on my shoulders. We opt to take the canoe off and two man it through the deep water.

Kati tackles the Horsetail Rapids portage in high water on the Granite River

10:50 – Depart Horsetail Rapids portage. Count our blessings that we decided to camp on Marabouef the night before instead of attempting to make it all the way out to Sag. Better to deal with flooded portages first thing in the day.

11:10 – Arrive Sag Falls portage.

Sag Falls at the end of the Granite River by Saganaga Lake

11:30 – Canoe and all gear at the tow boat pick up point on the Sag Lake side the Falls. Have snack. Wait for towboat.

Tuscarora Outfitters towboat driver Jack

12:00 – Jack arrives in the towboat.

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12:40 – Reach public landing on Sag Lake Trail. It’s Friday and the landing is full of people loading up their boats to get to their cabins on the Canadian side of Sag.

13:10 – Arrive Tuscarora. Unpack Kati’s items. Rouge thunderstorm rolls in. Mark up Granite River map with all the insight we’ve gained from the trip. Start planning next year’s trip.

 

The Mystery of Mayflowers

From the time of our first history lesson in kindergarten or preschool, we know the term “Mayflower.” But despite the fact that one of the most famous -if not the most famous – ship in North American history was called the Mayflower, I just sort of assumed the name referred to any old flower that bloomed in May and left it at that. And I kind of doubt the Pilgrims put a whole lot of thought into the flower either. They probably didn’t care what their ship was named, let alone what flower it was named after, as long as it put an ocean between themselves and the religious persecution of King James I.

Mayflower

Occasionally I’d run into a Mayflower moving truck and that would make me think about mayflowers for about .2 seconds, but generally, mayflowers were out of mind more often than not.

Mayflower Moving

But when I read Anne of Green Gables for the first time as a teenager, I ran into mayflowers yet again.

“‘I’m so sorry for people who live in lands where there are no Mayflowers,’ said Anne. ‘Diana says perhaps they have something better, but there couldn’t be anything better than Mayflowers, could there, Marilla? And Diana says if they don’t know what they are like they don’t miss them. But I think that is the saddest thing of all. I think it would be tragic, Marilla, not to know what Mayflowers are like and not to miss them. Do you know what I think Mayflowers are, Marilla? I think they must be the souls of the flowers that died last summer and this is their heaven.'”

In fact, mayflowers must have been very significant to Canadian author L.M. Montgomery, because she makes mention of them in at least of three of her eight books that deal directly with the life of Anne Shirley Blythe, aka Anne of Green Gables. In later books, Anne’s son, Jem, makes a habit of collecting bouquets of mayflowers each spring for his mother. This becomes particularly poignant in Rilla of Ingleside when Jem enlists in the Canadian Army at the start of World War I and is unable to bring Anne her mayflowers during the first spring of the Great War.

Despite reading the entire Anne of Green Gables series all the way through at least three or four times, I never really knew what these mayflowers looked like. At one point Anne’s daughter, Rilla, makes mention of wanting to gather armloads of mayflowers, so I always assumed the mayflower was a bigger wildflower like a daisy or black-eyed Susan.

At long last, I decided to consult the font of all knowledge, Google, to figure out what these mayflowers actually look like.

And low and behold I came up with a photo of this, a wildflower we know very well on the Gunflint Trail:

False Lily of the Valley Boundary Waters wildflower or Canada Mayflower

We call it “false lily of the valley,” but in other parts of North American it’s referred to by the English translation of its scientific name Maianthemum canadense: Canada Mayflower.

But despite having photographic proof of what a Canada mayflower looks like, I had a hunch that I hadn’t quite cracked “the mayflower mystery.” For one thing, how Rilla planned to gather armloads of these, I wasn’t quite sure, since the flower stalks average only about 4.5″ in height. At best, a “bouquet” of these mayflowers would really be more of a “nosegay.” For another thing, context clues in Anne of Green Gables told me that on Prince Edward Island where the books are set mayflowers bloom before violets. Here in Minnesota, false lily of the valley blooms decidedly after the violets.

It turns out that in the Maritime provinces where L.M. Montgomery lived, the wildflower known as trailing arbutus is often referred to as a mayflower. Never mind that in the Maritimes, trailing arbutus blooms in April. The reason for this Canadian misnomer for trailing arbutus brings us right back to those pilgrims and refers to the fact “that it was the first flower to cheer the hearts of the Pilgrim Fathers after the rigors of their first New England winter.” The whole “bouquet” thing that L.M. Montgomery mentions to is still confusing, because again, trailing arbutus only grows to 4-6″ tall so good luck finding a vase to accommodate that bouquet, but there you have it.

I’ve been thinking about L.M. Montgomery a lot lately, because the mother of two dear friends passed away unexpectedly at the end of last month. She was a noted L.M. Montgomery researcher, deeply involved with the L.M. Montgomery Literary Society, who visited Prince Edward Island many times, although never at the time when mayflowers were blooming, I don’t think. Because it’s springtime, I keep thinking of little Jem, scrambling down the hillside in Rainbow Valley to gather mayflowers for his mother.

So I’ve been watching carefully for our version of mayflowers this spring. They’re not out quite yet, but their large (at least in comparison with their flower) heart-shaped leaves are spreading across the forest floor. It wasn’t until I was leafing through my Anne books looking for mayflower references last night, that I rediscovered her quote about mayflowers being “the souls of wildflowers.” I thought about the tiny star-shaped flowers along a stem of false lily of the valley and was impressed by how apt that description seemed for the mayflower I know and the mayflower Anne knew.

Regardless of which mayflower you see this spring, I hope they’re a peaceful patch of beauty, with just a hint of mystic.