THE DESERT REJOICES 247 



" interpretation." There are at least three kinds 

 of flowers in the desert that are not microscopic, 

 and that I call by name. They are not very 

 numerous ; you may walk long distances without 

 meeting them ; but they are there. I mean the 

 evening primrose, the lupine, and the California 

 poppy. The primrose, which is much the com- 

 monest of the three, has no stalk, or none that 

 is apparent; the large, handsome, lemon-colored 

 flower opens directly from a tuft of leaves lying 

 flat on the ground. As for the poppies, I should 

 hardly speak of them as growing in the desert 

 but for the fact that two or three days ago I 

 stumbled upon a place (it would be like trying 

 to find a spot in the ocean to look for it again) 

 where the ground for the space of an acre or 

 more was sparsely sprinkled with them. They 

 were abnormally small, and very short in the 

 stem ; but they were bright as the sun, and be- 

 ing lighted upon thus unexpectedly they really 

 made the spot a garden. As the prophet said, 

 the place was " glad for them ; " and so was I. 



Both poppy and primrose (and the lupine as 

 well) are much more at home on the foothills. 

 There, too, are many flowers not to be seen at all 

 on the desert. I cannot talk about them for lack 

 of names. The brightest and showiest of them 

 all is of a vivid, but, in my vocabulary, nameless 



