SOME HUMBLE ORCHIDS 141 



When you see the weedy -looking sprays of Wild 

 Forget-me-not, then go slowly and you will surely 

 find grass clumps set thick with the slender, nar- 

 row-leaved stems, each holding one, or perhaps 

 two, rosy nodding flowers, the flat lip fringed and 

 crested. If they are newly opened and the wind 

 is blowing over them, a whiff of delicate fragrance 

 will reach you before close contact reveals the 

 whole strength of their perfume that is suggestive 

 of Parma Violets. As you stand quite still, holding 

 a blossom against your face, while you search about 

 with your eyes, you will perhaps discover a trail of 

 pink all across the meadow touching the brushy 

 edge of the bog woods, where a veery is rather 

 calling you to him than warning you away by 

 his shrill alarm -note, whew whe-ew! and where, 

 in anxious concealment, a low -nesting night 

 heron, the last of a once clamorous tree -top 

 colony, is waiting for your departure to come out, 

 driven by necessity to openly hunt frogs for his 

 greedy brood. 



Small as this Pogonia is, it adds a rosy color, 

 and becomes a feature in the landscape of the rank 

 marsh meadows of June. 



Occasionally flowering with Pogonia, but usually 

 later, its blooming season lasting from late June 



