Thee wanted lilies, and lilies thee shall have. But first, a singsong wot has got lilies in it.

Some of you may recognize that as a poem by Saint John of the Cross, “Dark Night of the Soul.” Before I knew that, I thought it was about a woman sneaking out of the house for a tryst with her lover. Then it turns out it was written by some dude, ostensibly about God, and begin to wonder if the supposedly religious nature of the poem is covering up for something forbidden.

Anyway. Lilies. I promised you them.

You know, I wasn’t expecting much when we went to Marys Peak near-the-summit this last trip. The snow had only just melted off (and was still lurking in some places). The grasses where so many magnificent flowers could be found in July were matted down from the snowpack, and the growing season had barely sucked in its first breath and commenced screaming. Not a great time for flowers, one would think. But when I got out in that field, I stumbled over these beauties almost immediately.

It looks like it’s bowing, doesn’t it? That flourishing little bow you’d get from a nineteenth-century gentleman in an opera cloak. Quite sweet.

For once, I know exactly what this is, and by now you probably do, too. Thirty seconds with a reasonable field guide solves this mystery. The flowers and leaves combined are quite distinct.

Forget leopard-print, I want something lily-print. How awesome are those patterns, eh?

I cast my shadow on a few of them to get an idea of what they look like on a typical PNW day. That sunlight we had going on was a little overwhelming for those of us acclimated to perpetual dimness.

But I love what the sun does to things here. I love the play of light and shade on the petals, and the way flowers look against blue skies and conifer forests.

And then there’s a tiny blurry Lockwood in the background, and a contrail, which out-of-focus looks a little like a comet and is therefore cool.

They seem to love being in clusters like this. Some were low, some high: some loners, some socializers, but no matter what form they took, they were lovely. Hard little buggers to spot amongst the dead and growing grass, though – they blend a bit, believe it or not.

Once you spot one, you see lilies everywhere, peeking up from the grass, or rising tall and bobbing in the breezes. Lovely things. Still incredible to someone raised in a place where lilies are things you buy at the store rather than visit in the wild.

So that was us amongst the lilies fair. But there will be more, because these aren’t the only early lilies up there. I’m finding Marys Peak to be the go-to source for flowers. Wowza.