Posts Tagged ‘Queen Anne’s Lace’

Four images

Queen Anne’s Lace, Potawatomi Park, Door County.



Same flower, but different setting, different quality of light and fifty miles from my own bevy of Queens.



Six images.

Come: join me for my morning’s walk. Don’t worry–I’ll do the heavy lifting here.  You can pour another cup of coffee and get comfy.

At 6:00 this morning, the world outside my windows was pleasantly hazy: not exactly fog-bound, but more mist-kissed. This isn’t completely unusual for me but when I put my glasses on, the soft gray morning was still there.

I rolled out of bed with great slowness–really? I’m going outside?– and rummaged around for clothes suitable for wandering in wet grass.  I ended up in an outfit that any mother of a four-year-old would instantly recognize: a free-spirited mixture of pajamas and whatever was on the floor of my closet.

And my camera.

I exited my backyard and started walking through the fields.

The sweet Queen riot is still in full-swing and I almost stayed right in the middle of it for another session of glamour shots…



…but I’m glad that I didn’t. Look! The deserted farm down the road!


I’ve never approached from this way before and it was just a matter of finding where the barbed wire was down so I could step through to the farm side.


Actually, I think I wandered into a painting.


The mist turned to rain and I turned to home. Total time out? One hour.



Home again!


Six images with apologies if you are receiving for a second time. This post didn’t get listed in Reader when I published yesterday afternoon. I am trying again.

These impressions are far better at conveying the enchantment of being alone in a field of wildflowers than all the documentary-style photos I could possibly show you.






field of queens

Six images. These really are better viewed at full-sized.

In which we consider some of this lovely flower’s nom de blooms.

It’s not too much of a stretch to understand a name like “wild carrot” for this flower (check out the taproot,) but “Queen Anne’s Lace?”

Legend says that Queen Anne, wife of James I, was challenged to create a lace more beautiful than any flower. The drop of purple in the center of each flower is said to represent a drop of blood that fell when Anne pricked her finger as she worked.


Not a botanist,  but I always thought the faux bug at the center of each flower was this clever creature’s way of luring other insects to her blooms. (“Hey, look! What’s that guy doing down there? I want some, too.”)

Please let me point out that I could have made churlish reference to the Queen’s bloomers, but I have far too much couth for that sort of word play.


The next shot delights me for both the capture of the flower and the tri-colored background. This was a perfect confluence of a patch of the Golden Glow, a bed of white daisies, and a green lawn, all flowing together and blurred nicely by that f2.8 60mm lens.


Had I been consulted regarding alternative names for The Queen, I would have called the almost-flowered version “Maude.” While the Queen sways regally in even the mildest of breezes, these ladies-in-waiting with their curls stuffed up under mob caps, bob and dance attendance around her, knowing that they will soon have their own moments in the sun.



Tomorrow: Fields of Queens

Right now, the fields and ditches, prairies and roadsides of Wisconsin are blanketed in waves of Queen Anne’s Lace, also known Daucus Carota, wild carrot, bird’s nest, and bishop’s lace. Whatever name she’s going by, she is an elegant white presence throughout my flower gardens and I am leaving her undisturbed since I find her to be easily as beautiful as any domesticated plant growing there.



Queen Anne’s Lace is considered an invasive species, having been imported from Europe. What I just learned is that this flower is the forerunner of our domestic carrot and its taproot can be eaten because it is…wait for it…a wild carrot. Cool! Not only a beauty, but one that can feed us as well.



The “bird’s nest” name comes because the flower gradually turns in on itself, forming a tight fist full of seeds.


The fields behind my house are thick with the plants and the slightest breeze keeps them in constant motion.  Frankly, I can’t get enough. When I am done admiring them from my window or patio, I am forced to grab a camera and go to pay my respects, up close and personal.

More tomorrow.