It is not long, however, until other spring flowers join the overture. Bloodroot emerges from the warming soil, each pearl-like bud swaddled in a wrap-around leaf. Encouraged by the sun, the flower bursts open “snow white, in spite of its . . . sanguinary name, as though it had been saving up some of the winter flakes,” mused nature writer Lucretia Hale in 1866. Where conditions are ideal, great drifts of bloodroot spangle the forest floor. Plants are connected by underground rhizomes that store orange-red sap—the source of both the English and scientific names.

On streamside trails, you may find the earliest blooming of our true lilies. Bright days tempt open the trout lily’s chocolate-spotted blossoms, soft to sunny yellow, with an elegant lavender tint on the backs of its recurved petals. Mature trout lily plants have twin leaves, artfully mottled in deeper green and maroon—speckled trout-like and arguably as attractive as their flowers. Burroughs complained that this “most pleasing” flower had “no good and appropriate common name.” In reference to its two upright, ear-like leaves, he suggested adding “fawn lily,” to its other zoomorphic appellations: adder’s tongue and dog-tooth violet.

Bloodroot, Sanguinaria canadensis

On first introduction, the red trillium may surprise you. In contrast to the pastel of most other spring blooms, this flower curtsies in crimson. Its handsome looks disguise a second curiosity—it has an un-handsome smell, which explains its lesser-known nicknames. “Stinking Benjamin” and “carrion flower” may not sound seductive to us, but the flowers are attractive to early pollinating flies. In spite of its Latin origin, “trillium” seems to be a flower name that makes sense, even to novice naturalists. This plant is conspicuous in its triple trinity with three leaves, three green sepals, and three colored petals.

May in the Adirondack High Peaks
Not until May do the first flowers awake from their long snowy nap in the Adirondack High Peaks. On Cascade Mountain, after the snowmelt and ahead of the black flies, the trail climbs through a transitional hardwood forest sprinkled with red spruce and balsam fir trees. With increased elevation, summer is shorter, temperatures colder, and the soils wetter, more peaty and shallow. These rugged conditions demand resilient plants and, at around 2,500 feet, hikers find themselves well into the cold-tested boreal forest. In these shadowy, fragrant, deep green woods, splashes of spring bloom are especially enchanting.

The bluebead lily is a steadfast hiking companion on these mountain trails. Later in the season, you may find this plant in a range of growth stages: with ripening blue berries near the trailhead, blooming yellow flowers at mid-mountain, and tight buds near treeline. John Burroughs noted this time-warp progression on a Catskill hike in 1910: “Here on the summit we overtook spring... At the foot of the mountain the clintonia...were showing their berries, but long before the top was reached they were found in bloom.” Clintonia is a New World genus, named for New York Gov. DeWitt Clinton of Erie Canal fame. The Adirondack species is borealis, meaning “of the north,” like the forest in which it thrives.

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