Even better, what about these native plants, growing in the remnants of a Garry Oak meadow, growing as they have been for countless generations. When Wordsworth was wandering lonely as a cloud, and discovering his crowd, his host, of golden daffodils, these Erythronium oregonum (hmm, plural, so Erythronia oregona??) were blooming at the edge of another continent. . . .
and a couple of hundred years later, while I wandered alone, if not particularly lonely, I happened upon this multitude of what are commonly called White Fawn Lilies
the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."