VIII 



FLOWERS OF THE SUN 



VERY hue of flower and leaf crosses 

 the open fields at some time of 

 the year, and coming, lingers, never 

 leaving the wild gardens until dis- 

 missed by the leveling touch of frost. 

 It appears as if the Magician had chosen 

 these wide spaces for palettes upon which 

 to broadly mix and blend the pri- 

 mary colors before penciling the 

 more intricate and delicate traceries 

 of wood, waterway and hedgerow. 



The first green of March, born on 

 the margin of some warm spring, 

 creeps along the field borders and pushes 

 its way outward wherever moisture lures 

 it, until the brown is gradually submerged by the 

 rising tide of verdure. As yet the only matching 

 tint in wood or on the hillside is the somber 

 weathered green of Ground Pine, Wintergreen, 

 Laurel, or Cedar ; and in the swamps, the listening 

 ears of Skunk Cabbages, pointed and satyr-like, 

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