On Trout Lilies, a Passage -- by Alex Ranieri

The trout lily certainly does not possess the most elegant name; but I find I would not change it. There is something refreshing about the juxtaposition of this comical moniker with the tiny jewel of the natural world it syllables. Is this refreshment not, after all, one of the chief joys of all spring ephemerals? The rose is laden with the loveliness of her name—she is, however, a flower of excess, and for this reason the excessive beauty of her word is not so burdensome. The trout lily, under such a luxurious name, would be crushed. Luxury and excess do not serve in the list of her charms. Nor would we have it otherwise; for if, after a long Midwestern winter, the rose presented herself first of all flowers to our eyes, she would sicken us. So the invalid, long used to bread and tea, cannot endure port wine, however exquisite its vintage.