Packed with seeds.

I saw these seed pods beside the highway to the island's west coast.

Unidentified plant, bare-stemmed, about 1 metre tall.

The seed pods are about 1 inch long. The stems stood tall above the surrounding vegetation, salal and ferns, in open, logged-off land.

What are they? Do you know?

Update: They're Tiger lilies. Here's a photo of the seed pods, taken by a friend in 108 Mile House, and posted on E-Flora. She also has a photo of the individual seeds, shaken out of the pods, here.

Not giving up

I'm still trying to identify that woolly plant. I went back to Oyster Bay this afternoon with a lens and a dark green umbrella to take another look. The lens wasn't much help, but the umbrella got rid of the glare and I could see better.

I cast around until I found a couple of plants that had flowered. The flowers were long dead, but still held their shape.

Side view, and top view. The flower head is less than 1 cm tall.

Each flower head stands on its own stalk, taller than the leafy stems, but still under about 10 inches high. The individual flowers sit down in a little cup; I think they have 6 petals.

I wanted to get a better look at the shape of the leaves, too. The top ones are like little salad servers, half fork, half spoon, all covered with a white felt.

Woolly leaves

Lower down on the stem, the leaves have broken free from the felt, and opened up into a long, three-pronged arrangement.

One lower leaf, abut 1.5 cm long, just over 1/2 inch. The "buttons" seem to be tips of small teeth.

Several people have suggested one of the Artemisia, the wormwoods and mugworts; so far, I haven't been able to find one like this.

Afterwards, I walked around the park and the surrounding bush in the blistering sunlight, under my rainy-day umbrella, wondering why I hadn't thought of this long ago. And the camera was happy, too; an even light, no glare, truer colours. We brought home a nice batch of photos to process and share.

Still here.

Under wraps

On the dry meadow tucked between the Oyster Bay shore and the highway, life goes on in layers. High above, swallows swoop and wheel, chattering as they go. A heron flies by on his way to better fishing grounds. Treetops tremble in the wind.

Down at my level, in blistering sunlight unrelieved by any hint of a breeze, butterflies dance; cabbage whites and purplish coppers. Grasshoppers lead me in a merry (for them) chase, some hopping, others darting here and there over the gumweed until they settle again, just out of sight. Bees hurry through the gumweed; so much to harvest, so little time! Something keeps up a constant, raspy chirp, more grasshoppers, probably.

From my ankles down, there is a bit of shade, a slightly cooler microclimate, full of busy life. I find a clear spot and sit on the moss. It is crispy and hot on top, but an inch below the surface, there is moisture and the roots are soft. Ants and spiders dash about between the stems of the plants; wild strawberry, fragrant yarrow, grasses, mini-clover and silver burweed.

There's one plant I don't recognize. It's hard to see clearly, short stems surrounded by leaves all tied up in white wool, hiding their shapes. There are no flowers.

Wooly plants, in context.

The leaves are opposite, toothed, or maybe palmate. There may be a bud in the centre top.

Old leaves dry up and turn charcoal grey.

I took the first two photos in July. After I couldn't find them in any book or website, I went back this afternoon to get a better look, hoping for flowers or new growth.

After a week of rain, they're leafier; green leaves covered with white wool. No flowers, no flower stalks.

I've gone through every page in my guide, Googled and Googled and Googled again, thinking up new search terms. No luck.

Does anyone out there recognize these?

The arrows point to the shore. The meadow is where the highway veers off from the shore.

Hairy!

Unidentified plant, near Heckman Pass. 5000 ft.:

Do you recognize this?

One more day to go. Tomorrow I'll pack up my desk and computer, and then probably be off-line until Friday. See you then!

A few dune plants

The dunes above the beach on the west shore of Boundary Bay are half-wild, half tame gone feral. Logs and scraps of broken driftwood litter the sand, overrun with a tangle of native plants and lichens, but on the inner edge, bordering the last row of houses of Beach Grove, the home-owners have extended themselves beyond their walls, spreading chairs and hammocks, kayaks and abandoned toys well out into the sand. Some have blended their own garden plants in with the beach pea and sea rocket; here's a patch of purple and yellow irises, there's a couple of blue blossom shrubs, further along a mound of evergreen roses. Invasive Scotch broom rubs elbows with gumweed, heal-all, and nasturtiums.

Large-headed sedge, Carex macrocephalus. They grow best where the sand is driest.

Bee foraging in flowers. A garden escape, maybe?

Flowers, grasses, and ant.

"Garden" in a knothole.

Under the Scotch broom. I don't know what the white flowers are. The pinkish bits are purple dead-nettle.

I don't recognize this one. A garden escape, again?

The flowers, or maybe buds. I'll have to go back later to see what develops.

Three pink dots in the grass

These flowers are tiny. I would have missed them if I hadn't been bending to look at the mud on my shoes.

I know I should recognize this, but I don't.

When Google image search, asked for pink flowers with three sepals, growing on wet ground, starts giving me cows, bran muffins, and snowy city streets, I know I've been wasting my time. I'm going to bed.