by Shelley Patterson

Spring on Anarchist Mountain doesn’t arrive all at once—it reveals itself in quiet, remarkable moments.

What I’ve learned in my short time here is that assumptions don’t hold much weight. Not about flora, not about fauna, and certainly not about the weather. What I thought I knew before living here compared to what I’m learning now has been nothing short of eye-opening. And really, that’s the goal—to keep learning.

The signs of spring are here, even if I still keep a warm, wind- and rain-resistant coat and gloves close by for our daily walks. The willows are showing off their soft catkins (Salix spp.), and Saskatoon shrubs (Amelanchier alnifolia) are just beginning to unfurl hints of green and pink. Beside us, Haynes Creek rushes loudly toward Osoyoos Lake, another sure sign the season is shifting.

But it’s the smallest detail that has captured my attention this month.

Tucked low to the ground, easy to miss unless you’re looking closely, is a tiny yellow flower—bright and resilient against the muted tones of early spring.

This is the sagebrush buttercup (Ranunculus glaberrimus), one of the very first wildflowers to bloom on the mountain. Thriving in dry, open areas, it appears before most plants have even begun to leaf out.

Despite its size, it plays an important role—providing an early food source for emerging pollinators like native bees and small insects. It’s a quiet but essential beginning to the growing season.

As I look ahead to planning this year’s garden—tomatoes, cucumbers, and potatoes—I’m reminded that long before our cultivated plants begin to flower, nature has already done the work of supporting the pollinators they depend on.

So as we walk, noticing these small but mighty blooms, it’s a gentle reminder: even the smallest contributions can make a meaningful difference.

A simple miracle, right at our feet.

If you have any questions, ideas or comments about this article, please send to wendys@amcsbc.ca.