Childhood Memories

Growing up there were several “events” that happened on a regular enough basis that my sister and I came to count on them as part of our  normal lives.  We became accustomed to them, and we really didn’t think of any of them as “odd’, rather, they were just part of our life.  It is only now, as an adult, while I’m trying to re-create many (but definitely not all) of those experiences for my own girls, that I’m really beginning to understand what a unique, one-of-a-kind childhood I had.  Erika, my sister, and I were so very blessed to have been raised the way we were – out of touch with media most of the time; noses buried deep in books constantly; and imaginations that ran wild with such creatures as the culvert whale, our “butterfly tent”, the net (a big net suspended about 5′ off the ground between trees to sleep on); and free run of acres and acres of National Forest every year.

  • Most children would not need to help clean off the dining room table after dinner so their dad could taxidermy whatever dead animal had been lurking at the back of the kitchen freezer for the past few weeks.
  • Those same children would probably not have lost their first tooth while with their dad in an old barn looking for owl pellets.
  • Digging a new outhouse at Lily White with Erika and I being lowered down into the hole by rope to dig (kind of frightening, now that I think about it).
  • Most children didn’t have summer college students and professors teaching them how to press flowers, pan for gold, identify hundreds of different animals, birds, and insects.
  • Most children were not nearly as lucky and blessed as Erika and I were.

One thing I can vividly remember every year while we were at Lily White was when the Indian Moccasin Orchids would begin to bloom.  They are rare, very hard to find, and they have a very short growing season.  It was a special treat every year for our whole family to make almost daily hikes to wherever we knew they had grown in the past so we could all see them blooming.  I loved the hikes with my family – the long walking and the sore feet – because each time we went it was an adventure with such a wonderful reward at the end of our journey.

I have not seen an Indian Moccasin in the wild for probably twenty-five years.  My dad stopped running the summer college at Lily White, we spent more time engaged in other activities in the summers, and quite frankly, I turned into a snot and never wanted to do those kinds of things with my family.

Yesterday, Aaron, the girls, and I went to the Blue Mountains above Heppner to get more firewood for Aaron’s dad and step-mom.  We were just starting to carry the chunks of wood from the very first tree Aaron fell when I stumbled across an Indian Moccasin Orchid.  Literally – I tripped over a branch on the ground and that’s when I noticed the blooms.  I was so astounded that I found them out of the blue, not even looking, and right in the prime of their blooming season, I was giddy with excitement!  I made Harley run back to the pick up and grab my camera (never leave home without it) and my cell phone (to send and instant picture to my mom), had Aaron turn off the saw, and gathered all the girls up so I could explain to them what the flower was and why it was so important to me.  By the time I was done talking, I’m sure they all were ready to commit me to an asylum.  The instant flood of memories that washed over me was so profound, special, and dear to me that the rolled eyes were totally worth it!

The Indian Moccasin – aka The Mountain Lady Slipper
 
  
  
  

Another botanical experience Erika and I couldn’t wait for each year was the blooming of the Butterfly Lillies.  I am only now finding out (or at least remembering) that the actual name of the flower is the Big Pod Mariposa Lily, but Erika and I always called them Butterfly Lily.  The meadows immediately surrounding Lily White would become seas of delicate, white blooms.  We would pick and pick and pick them – the main building was always full of bouquets.  They are somewhat plain, though pretty, to look at from the outside of their petals, but when you look inside, they are absolutely stunning!  The colors are so pretty, and the little yellow spot on each petal?  That is a gland (I have no idea what it does, though).

Much like my experience with the Indian Moccasin Saturday, I was trudging through an open rocky area with an arm load of wood when I noticed it was full of Butterfly Lillies.  Perfection!

Butterfly Lily – aka Big Pod Mariposa Lily
 
  

Even though we were working really hard to get wood, my day could not have been any better.  The path I was able to take through the memories triggered by these two lovely flowers allowed me to re-live and reminisce about the experiences I had as a wild child, running through the woods with only my imagination and my sister to guide my way.

A salute to all of our almost-forgotten memories and the triggers that cause them to come flooding back to us!  It is oh so worth it!


Amy

Follow

**At times you’ll find some affiliate links scattered within my post, which means I receive a small amount of compensation if you end up purchasing something I’ve recommended.

If you liked this, you may also like these posts.

0 thoughts on “Childhood Memories

  1. I LOVE this! You’re having a great summer & those girls of yours are just growing right up … I finally got a little caught up 🙂

    Cheers to a great week and the best rest of the summer – hope all is well and maybe we’ll even get to see each other before school starts up … ICE CREAM is calling … 🙂

  2. I had not yet seen this post when I talked to you last night. Beautiful shots and now I really want an Indian moccassin. Did you know why they are called butterfly lillies by you? Because the work mariposa is Spanish for butterfly and when you were little you decided to translate the mariposa part of their name to butterfly. In Montana they are known as Sego lillies. When I was little my mom used Sego evaporated milk, so the label of that brand was my first introduction to the flower. I always think that when they flutter in the breeze on those thin little stems they look like butterflies hovering just above the field. Oh, yeah….memories of Lily White are pretty special and it was a special time to be a mom to my little girls who were so free and curious, just waiting for their little minds to find the next wonderful thing to absorb.

    Thanks for the little walk down memory lane!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.