A Flower for Mother’s Day

BY BRIAN PRIVETT

On Mother's Day this year I went solo hiking in the Gorge because I'm about 6 hours from my own mother and it was going to be sunny, 80 degrees, and I haven't been in a couple of weeks. It was a few shorter trails today, so I had to drive in between my walks in the woods.

Driving in my pickup to the next trail, I saw a newish Subaru sitting cockeyed off the side of the road, the rear passenger wheel off in a ditch. There was a woman about the same age as my mother standing in front of the car and another about my age walking from the other side of the road. I slowed down, worried they were stuck and since cell service is not very good in the Gorge, I was starting to imagine having to push, or pull with my truck, these women's car from the ditch.

Pulling up, though, I saw they weren't stuck, but the woman walking across the road had been looking at something. Following her return path, I saw it immediately in the green undergrowth of the woods - a yellow lady slipper - one of the more rare flowers in the woods. I stopped too.

The women were mother and daughter, they told me, the older one with a short, neat haircut, denim shirt and binoculars hanging on a strap around her neck, obviously a birder. The daughter had gray hair and a hippie vibe that matched her clean white car. They thanked me for checking on me, but they were ok.

"They yellow lady slipper," I said. "I know why you stopped."

The daughter laughed and told me why this one was even more special. She and her mother make a trip every year on Mother's Day to visit this one particular plant.

There are areas of the Gorge where pink lady slippers are as plentiful as minnows in a creek. But not the yellow. They are hard to find because of habitat loss and even harder to return to. Visible ones are likely to be dug up to add to someone's personal collection at home.

This one, though, was right beside the road and mature. It had at least four blooms. People out in the Kentucky woods can go their entire lives without seeing one, but you have to be in the exact right place at the exact right time for the bloom. Seeing this one, my first, was a Grail moment, the woods opening up and a special sunbeam shining right down on it.

"I don't know why nobody sees it," the daughter said. "I think people just drive by and don't pay attention."

The yellow lady slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum) is native to North America and is considered common and secure across most of its range, but in Kentucky, it is considered rare and threatened. They only grow in mature woods, damp areas, or on the edges of bogs and need moist, neutral soil. They can take anywhere from 10 to 16 years to produce their first bloom, and are thought to live to up to 50 years.

The mother and daughter on the side of the road didn't tell me exactly how many years they had been visiting this plant, but that it had become a Mother's Day tradition for them. To visit this rare and beautiful flower that can take a human's age to mature, and live almost as long, so long as it has exactly the right soil, moisture, and sunlight.

I had called my own mom as soon as I got on the road this morning, about 7 a.m. and wished her Happy Mother's Day. Like I said, she's 6 hours away, in South Carolina, and I'm the lone hold out in Kentucky. I also called because she knows I'm out in the woods most weekends and she worries about me getting hurt, lost, or falling (which I did a couple of weeks ago, oops). She told me today she joined the Red River Gorge group on Facebook where they post all the "news" like lost or broken-legged hikers. I make sure I call or text her when ever I get off a trail to check in - safe, no concussions, all bones unbroken, not snake bit.

When I got back home today, thinking about that mother and daughter, and their rare flower, the annual visit like seeing family, the tradition, and the plant that might outlast one, or both of them, I did the only thing I could think of. I sent a picture of the lady slipper to my mom, far away.

Happy Mother's Day, moms.

Brian Privett lives and works in Central Kentucky and stays outdoors as much as possible. Not only his mom, but also his younger sister, live in South Carolina. But since his sister has a great family and lives where other people vacation, 15 minutes from the beach, he only sent his sister a text for Mother's Day. She's good.