ISO of a Wild Flower

Whatever happened to Virginia Waterleaf?

That’s what a friend of 40 years asked during last weekend’s visit.

Virginia Waterleaf is a woodland perennial plant. It gets its name from the water-stained appearance of the leaves. Its range, like mine for the last 40 years, is the eastern United States.

A biologist and nature lover, my friend had pointed out the wildflower on a long-ago hike. To me, a child of the suburbs, the plant seemed fine enough, but I surely loved its moniker. I immediately claimed it as a pen name.

Wouldn’t “By Virginia Waterleaf” look grand on a dust jacket?

I was in my early 20s and was going to be a writer, not just any writer but an important one, a writer with a capital W.

Four decades later, I am a writer, just not of the dreamed-of novels and stories or scripts and screenplays. Yet, I made a living with my words and wits. First, I wrote  “corporate fiction.” Next, I moved to government service where I put words in other people’s mouths and excised them from other’s people’s material.

And, while Oprah never called and the only book signings I attended were to see other, published authors, being a lowercase writer was satisfying. Because as Bulwer-Lytton wrote, “The pen is mightier than the sword.” Words, well put and placed, can move minds and mountains.  Even save lives.  My words may have helped make a difference.

But, back to my friend’s question. I realize that more than being about a published writer, my woodland persona was about me. About who I was before a lifetime of demands and commitments as wife, worker, mother, mentor, and more.

Whatever became of Virginia Waterleaf? It’s a good question. Thank you, dear friend, for asking. As a retiree, I have the time to find out. Now, I need the inclination. Maybe I’ll start tonight on Halloween and discard my sheet and ghostwriter costume and see if I can start the transformation into a flower. Maybe even one with a little wildness.