Day 366: Returning to where it began

Do you believe in happy endings? After today, I might just begin to do so. To finish off this project I decided to return to the place it began, Lighthouse Park. In my mind's eye I imagined how poetic it would be to end the year on the same note on which it started with a photo of budding trillium. I headed straight to the spot I'd seen them last year, fully expecting to see white flowers poking through fresh green leaves. But mother nature decided that I shouldn't have it so easy: I found myself standing next to the low fence looking forlornly at a single green shoot barely six inches high. Nothing to do but to take its picture anyway.

So there I was, standing in a dull and cold Lighthouse Park, rain clouds threatening overhead, with a somewhat anti-climactic photo in hand. What next? Where was I going to get my finishing photo? Surely I couldn't let the project end with such a "nothing" photo? I looked at the map and picked a trail I had only walked once before, which took me to one of the park's rocky promontories, in search of the flower that had actually brought me to Lighthouse Park this time last year: white fawn lilies. I knew it would be too early to see them in flower, but perhaps I could find a leaf, or a bud?

I wandered around, doing my best to ignore the snow pellets, rain and cold wind. No sign of any flowers; and then something caught my eye. A single leaf, which I recognized immediately as from a lily. I crouched down and saw another - then a bud, and more leaves. I set about recording the evidence, hardly able to believe my eyes. I moved on and barely 10 metres further I saw another pair of leaves with a bud, and another and another. I picked my way carefully through the litter of dead pine branches, found a comfy spot and fetched the tripod from my backpack. A dozen photos later I figured I had my shot, and, marvelling at these wonderful little flowers-to-be, reluctantly put away the camera gear. I could not believe my luck. To top it off a pair of bald eagles squawked in the tree tops across the cove, and a hummingbird squeaked in the nearby pines. And only then did the rain begin in earnest.

Fawn lilies in bud