#toad trillium

[aisling-saoirse]

Young Trillium coming up!

[robbie-roo]

here's more >:)

here's a bunch of my field notebook doodles and notes before it got too hectic to illustrate

particularly proud of those last two I'm ngl

[willbrakeforneature]

starting to see signs of spring 🙂

[thebotanicalarcade]

Ohio Spring Wildflower Field Guide

[april-is]

April 6, 2024: First Birthday, Brad Leithauser

First Birthday Brad Leithauser

You have your one word, which fills you to brimming. It’s what’s first to be done on waking, Often the last at day-dimming: Lunge out an arm fiercely, As though your heart were breaking, Stab a finger at some stray illumination — Lamp, mirror, distant dinner candle — And make your piercing identification,

“‘ight! ‘ight! ‘ight!” Littlest digit, you’ve got the world by the handle. Things must open for you, you take on height, Your sole sound in time reveal itself As might, too, and flight. And fright. Some will be gone. But you will come right.

--

(I love the moment of thinking wait, is this a sonnet? ... it is!)

More like this:

+ The Flames, Kate Llewellyn + This Morning in a Morning Voice, Todd Boss + from Little Sleep’s-Head Sprouting Hair in the Moonlight, Galway Kinnell

Today in:

2023: Toad, Norman MacCaig 2022: Antidotes to Fear of Death, Rebecca Elson 2021: Love Poem: Centaur, Donika Kelly 2020: Walking Home, Marie Howe 2019: not an elegy for Mike Brown, Danez Smith 2018: Trillium, Deborah Digges 2017: Good People, W.S. Merwin 2016: Traveling with Guitar, Debra Marquart 2015: Honey, James Wright 2014: For the Dead, Adrienne Rich 2013: Miracle Ice Cream, Adrienne Rich 2012: The Soul Bone, Susan Wood 2011: Pluto, Maggie Dietz 2010: Slant, Stephen Dunn 2009: Distressed Haiku, Donald Hall 2008: Question, May Swenson 2007: Song, Adrienne Rich 2006: Scheherazade, Richard Siken 2005: What the Living Do, Marie Howe

[mdeanstrauss]

Toad Trillium in the North Carolina woodlands...

[emrenvs3000f24]

UNIT 1 BLOG POST

My whole life, I have been fortunate enough to be exposed to nature. Before I could even talk, my parents took me camping with them, and that tradition has continued throughout my life. Although I was lucky to grow up with these experiences, I didn’t develop a serious appreciation for nature until around 2020, during the pandemic.

In elementary school, I was what some might call a basement dweller. My hobbies included napping, playing video games, and watching the occasional TV show or movie. Most summers were spent indoors, avoiding the sunlight and wasting away. Although the COVID-19 pandemic was a truly horrible time, it forced me to sit and reflect on my values and what truly made me happy. I realized that the happiest moments of my life so far were the times I spent immersed in nature with my family.

One beautiful day in late March 2020, I decided to take my dog, Koda, for a long walk along Sixteen Mile Creek in Oakville, which was the closest slice of nature to my house at the time. Although Oakville is a highly developed area—and becoming more so each year—I was amazed by the serenity and diversity I witnessed on my hike that day. I walked down into the valley and saw a massive spawning event of American toads. The river was full of eggs and toads, all grappling for the chance to pass on their genes to the next generation. White-tailed deer bounded through the forest along the creek's edge, while a red-tailed hawk soared high above the valley. Needless to say, I was amazed that this bastion of ecological diversity existed just a 30-minute walk from my house.

That one hike essentially set me on the path I’m on today—studying wildlife biology and conservation at the University of Guelph. Almost every day, rain or shine, I put my dog on his leash and hiked out to that creek, watching as the ecosystem developed through the seasons. Trilliums came and went. The toad eggs developed into tiny, fingernail-sized toadlets that hopped across the forest floor. I found where the red-tailed hawk was nesting, in a huge red pine tree at the top of the valley, where I could faintly see its young poking their heads out for food. I began to feel at home in nature, learning species identification, animal behavior, navigation skills, and even deeper philosophical lessons about the impermanence of life—how everything changes, no matter how much we try to resist.

Now, I get out into nature as much as humanly possible, and I believe I’m truly happier because of it. Nature offers me peace. Whether I’m hiking alone, fishing, or simply going on an adventure with friends, it’s the place I want to be.

[carbon-ate]

sooo hard to decide what to plant this fall for spring blooms. I’m thinking about Virginia bluebells but they’ll take at least a year to establish... I also love toad lilies and trillium too, but i don’t think any part of my yard gets enough shade for them.

[geiss1136]

[nutmegnautilus]

Inktober Day 17 - Toad Trillium (Trillium sessile)

[chalklinechickadee]

[vandaliatraveler]

Another day, another pair of hiking boots, yet more wonderful finds in the spring woods. The photos above are from various hikes around Coopers Rock State Forest yesterday. What a memorable adventure it turned out to be! The wood anemone (Anemone quinquefolia) was in crazy beautiful form along Glade Run - one of the best displays I’ve seen in years. Sessile-leaved bellwort (Uvularia sessilifolia) was also out in force - graceful little ballet dancers moving to a hushed, pulsing score on the forest floor. Among the many wildflowers making an early May push, I found smooth Solomon’s seal (Polygonatum biflorum), large-flowered trillium (Trillium grandiflorum), and rattlesnake weed (Hieracium venosum), which inhabits the same dry, boulder-strewn slopes as its namesake pit viper. Along the drier slopes and trail edges, huckleberries were in bloom, and early azaleas weren’t far behind. Finally, I met a few new friends on my various hikes, including an eastern tiger swallowtail butterfly (Papilio glaucus), a curious young eastern garter snake (Thamnophis sirtalis sirtalis), and a very young eastern American toad (Anaxyrus americanus), each embarking on a new life journey with an uncertain future. 

[cedar-glade]

Trillium sessile,

Toad Shade

As far as Ohio is concerned, this is our most common Trillium sp. With that said it is always a treat to see them in a mass bloom.

Photographed at Miami University’s Preffner Park, Oxford, Ohio.

[willbrakeforneature]

late winter palette ~ soft greens, gray blues and rich browns

[happi-tree]

cursed, cast, cat

Hi, lovebirds!!! It's been a minute since I've posted frogshow fic on here, but this spooky au concept and @themissakat's wonderful art of it simply will not let me rest (they helped me brainstorm for it and the stuff they've made is absolutely GORGEOUS - check it out here and here if you haven't already). I'm planning on adding more to this au (everything on here will be tagged under #cc au), so you'll see more of it soon, and this short bit is just the beginning! With all that said and done, the fic is below the cut! Hope you guys enjoy this new variant of our favorite trio <3

<I found you something,> a teasing voice singsongs through their link, honey-sweet and syrup-thick. 

Marcy hums and finishes tying her bundle of herbs together with red twine, stepping up on her chair and then the counter to hang it from the rafters with its companions.

<Please tell me it’s more weeping trillium,> she sighs back. <We’re almost out, and mail order is so expensive - >

<Even better,> the voice purrs, and Marcy can practically feel the smirk in its tone, the ghost of it threatening to pull at her own lips. She rolls her eyes instead as their door creaks open, the bell at the top chiming a cheery welcome. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Marcy says aloud, eyes still focused on getting the twine to fasten tightly around the thick, oaken beam.

<I mean, I’d sure appreciate it if you looked,> the voice resounds in her head, snarky but warm.

“Okay, hang on, let me just - what did I tell you about bringing your kills into the house!?”

Sitting pretty just past the threshold is a rather large cat, brown-coated with darker markings around its face and paws like a Burmese would, but with luxurious, fluffy fur more comparable to a Himalayan. Said coat of fur is matted in places, speckled with burrs and forest detritus that indicate hours of scouring through the underbrush, and pretty gold-brown eyes stare up into hers.

In the cat’s jaws is a lump of brownish something that squirms in her unbothered grip. 

<Firstly, rude,> the cat replies, promptly depositing the poor thing on the floor and casually trapping it beneath fluffy paws as it scrambles to get away. <That was one time, and I was half-high on the neighbor kids’ catnip! So not my fault. Secondly, she’s clearly alive.>

“I can see that,” Marcy says, catching flashes of amphibian-looking skin as the creature vainly struggles to free itself.

<And thirdly, I should get pets, because the way this one screamed at me the entire way here practically made me want to kill her.> The cat glares at its paws before letting out a shocked <You talk to your mother with that mouth? … Jeez, forget I asked.>

“Ooookay. Why on earth would you bring… a toad… to me?” 

Marcy gets a light chuff in response. 

<I’m gonna let you go now, but you gotta stay still or so help me, I will put you in my mouth again and both of us will hate it,> the cat says to whatever’s in its grasp before pulling back to sit on its haunches. 

And sitting in the middle of their kitchen floor is the grumpiest-looking toad Marcy has ever seen. It beeps at - well, she isn’t sure who. Perhaps about the situation in general.

“Aw, that was cute,” Marcy coos. The toad beeps again, somehow angrier than before. 

Maybe it’s… injured somehow?

<Look closer. Can’t you see it?>

The toad puffs itself up rather defensively under their twin scrutiny.

Marcy looks. 

Oh. 

She lets out a long, low whistle. “That is one heck of a curse you’ve got laid on you, ma’am.”

<I found her just from the smell,> the cat remarks. <So strong, I tracked her for acres before I got to ‘er. Pain in the nose, really.> 

The toad makes a high, affronted little noise at that. 

<The curse is what smells, lady, not you!> A pause. <Well, we’re gonna try to help you out, okay?> The mind-voice is soft and reassuring, a blanket to Marcy’s frantic inner monologue even when it isn’t speaking to her directly, and there’s a rush of fondness that Marcy knows the other can feel through their bond.

Amber eyes meet hers again. <This here’s Sasha, and she’s a fellow businesswoman!>

“A businesswoman, huh?” Marcy muses. “Well, lucky for you, I’m never one to turn away custom-ah!”

Marcy loses her footing on the countertop, foot slipping off the edge and sending her toppling face-first toward the floor. The cat dashes forward, surging upward, form growing and shifting and eyes alight with blue until -

A strong, sure arm wraps snugly around her waist, steady and tanned from the harvest sun, while its opposite spans across the backs of her shoulders. Marcy gazes up at her savior, taking in familiar mahogany-colored curls and onyx-dark eyes and full, grinning lips. 

“Careful there, darlin’,” Anne says with a wink and a smirk, and Marcy can feel her face heat a bit. 

“Ah.” 

A leaf falls out of Anne’s hair. Marcy sends it back into place with a flick of her finger and a wink of her own, tucking one of Anne’s wayward curls behind her ear. 

Anne splutters, and something sun-yellow and impossibly affectionate fills the cavities of Marcy’s chest. She presses their hands together, a habit-turned-spell, and she feels practically incandescent with the feeling, like she could-

<What the fuck are you guys supposed to be?> A new voice, steel-sharpened and moon-cold, breaks through Marcy’s mind and thus, the moment as well.

Oh. Right. The toa- the girl.

Marcy quickly clears her throat, untangling herself from her partner’s arms even as Anne mentally whines at her.

“Well, Miss Sasha, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Marcy Wu, and I’m a witch!” She exclaims with a dramatic bow and flourish. Sasha somehow seems even less impressed - it’s truly a marvel that she can express such an emotion with a toad’s face.

She gestures to the woman beside her, who rests a calloused hand on her shoulder. “And the lovely lady who brought you here is Anne, my loyal familiar.”

[april-is]

April 6, 2023: Toad, Norman MacCaig

Toad Norman MacCaig Stop looking like a purse. How could a purse squeeze under the rickety door and sit, full of satisfaction, in a man's house? You clamber towards me on your four corners - right hand, left foot, left hand, right foot. I love you for being a toad, for crawling like a Japanese wrestler, and for not being frightened. I put you in my purse hand, not shutting it, and set you down outside directly under every star. A jewel in your head? Toad, you've put one in mine, a tiny radiance in a dark place.

--

More like this:  » No, Mark Doty » Spirit of the Bat, Peggy Shumaker   » Dog in Bed, Joyce Sidman

Today in:

2022: Antidotes to Fear of Death, Rebecca Elson 2021: Love Poem: Centaur, Donika Kelly 2020: Walking Home, Marie Howe 2019: not an elegy for Mike Brown, Danez Smith 2018: Trillium, Deborah Digges 2017: Good People, W.S. Merwin 2016: Traveling with Guitar, Debra Marquart 2015: Honey, James Wright 2014: For the Dead, Adrienne Rich 2013: Miracle Ice Cream, Adrienne Rich 2012: The Soul Bone, Susan Wood 2011: Pluto, Maggie Dietz 2010: Slant, Stephen Dunn 2009: Distressed Haiku, Donald Hall 2008: Question, May Swenson 2007: Song, Adrienne Rich 2006: Scheherazade, Richard Siken 2005: What the Living Do, Marie Howe