three not two

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Nodding trillium in the Great Smokies

If you want to see a wildflower aficionado wax poetic and get all misty-eyed, all you have to say is one word: “trillium.” That will do it. It’s best if you whisper it low and rumbling the way Orson Welles said “Rosebud” in Citizen Kane.

“Trillleeeeuuuummmmmmmmmm.”

The body plans of most multicellular organisms have parts organized in twos, often exhibiting bilateral symmetry: a left half reflected by a right. (Go look at yourself in the mirror. We have two ears, two eyes, two arms, two hands, two legs and two feet, each a mirror reflection of its partner. Luckily, we only have one mouth. Two would be too weird, but we could at least talk and eat at the same time.)

Trilliums dare to be different: their body plans are based on an odd number. The word trillium comes from the Latin "tres" meaning three. And even though we have around twelve different kinds of trillium growing in our Southern Mountains, they nearly always arrange their body parts in increments of that number: three leaves, three green sepals and three petals on the flower itself.
 
The petals can be white, yellow, purplish or even maroon.

Yellow trillium is one of the more common species. It can be found at Ijams Nature Center and is a real crowd pleaser, in part because it has a soft lemony scent.

Yellow trillium at Ijams Nature Center

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