Wishing upon a shooting star

I thought I saw shooting stars, those delicate white or purple blossoms that appear to be ready for blast-off, and I was so surprised I even said the words shooting stars out loud although no one was around to hear. 

Soon, though, I was assailed by doubt. I'd never seen shooting stars in that stretch of woods before and couldn't be sure they would bloom so early there; I couldn't get close enough to examine them carefully and the photos I took showed an ambiguous mass of blurred blossoms. So I lost confidence in my shooting stars, didn't tell anyone that I'd seen such a thing and couldn't be certain that I had.

And then I saw a newspaper photo showing shooting stars blooming in the same area of the state where I'd been hiking, and I knew that I was both right and wrong--right in believing I was seeing shooting stars, wrong to doubt my perceptions. 

I try to approach the natural world with humility, knowing that what I don't know far exceeds what I do, and yet when I encountered another hiker in those same woods who was all excited about what he thought was "some weird kind of pitcher-plant back there," I looked at the photo on his phone and confidently identified it as Jack-in-the-pulpit. I even pointed out a few more places where he could be sure to find more. Most of the time I know what I know and I'm willing to learn about what I don't know, but I'm reluctant to take a risk on an identification if I'm not entirely certain--because what if I'm wrong?

Well, what if I am? Will the world end if I misidentify a wildflower? Will the botanists of the world line up to heap contempt on my head? I've known some botanists and I don't see them carrying around buckets of contempt to throw at rank amateurs.

The word amateur, let's recall, derives from the French for lover, and love is a risky pursuit. I love wildflowers enough to venture into unknown territory and try out paths that might prove to be dead ends, and sometimes I have to stop in my tracks and confront an unexpected wonder. Shooting stars, I say out loud, and next time I'll believe it.