Of Loons and Lady Slippers comes from my memories of the places tied to my family. My great grandmother’s family is from Washington County, Maine. When I was very small, my grandparents bought two hunter’s cabins on Love Lake in Crawford, Maine and from that point on, every summer involved two weeks on the lake. One of the most beautiful, haunting sounds is the call of loons in the early morning mist as it rises off the lake.
Those same grandparents had a house my grandfather built with his own hands on a few acres in northeast Connecticut. As a child, I was given free reign to run through the woods and play – as long as we did not pick the lady slipper orchids that grew wild all over the place. It was against state law to touch the lady slipper flowers as they are endangered. I remember spending a lot of time sitting and examining these flowers, wondering why they were so special and remembering some of the stories Bampi (what we called my grandfather) told me about how the wee folk used them as special houses.
For all my looking …I never did see one of the wee folk climbing into – or out of – the flower petals.
(the two photos have links below them to the original page where they are found)