IN A SULTRY SWAMP 



THE growing, living odour of matted Sphagnum moss 

 makes even the sultry moisture of the entangled 

 swamp an irresistible attraction. That perpetually 

 damp and spongy moss growing up in tinted, spread- 

 ing domes and hollows, while dying at the roots, 

 slowly converting ancient ponds into peat bogs and 

 nourishing a heterogeneous gathering of seedlings 

 into elbowing, struggling trees, seems a perpetual 

 fountain of vegetable life* The charm of renewal 

 that makes the call of spring irresistible where the 

 early flowers look up for recognition seems to last 

 throughout the growing year where this yielding 

 moss continues its endless transformation of death 

 into life. The seedlings nursed by its moisture and 

 fed by its continuous fertilising growth interlace 

 their roots below the changing surface, and mingle 

 their aggressive branches in the struggle upward 

 toward the excluded light. The bristling Tamarac 

 is a favourite, and seems to delight in obstructing 

 and closing every possible avenue. The conical 



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