228 FLOWERS OF THE SUN 



are no present signs of habitations to account for 

 their planting. Inside the fence was a rocky waste, 

 then rolling and rather barren hills, but across the 

 road were fields, dry at the edge and hedged with 

 vigorous Wild Rose Bushes, but soon dropping to 

 less barren if not absolutely moist soil, and a bit of 

 low pasture. 



There was no breeze; waves of heat quivered 

 above the sandy road; the leaves hung heavy, as 

 did the languid air, which seemed to make respira- 

 tion slow. Some cattle, grouped under a single 

 Chestnut in the middle of the pasture, chewed their 

 cuds slowly, while a red -eyed vireo in the Maples 

 repeated his monotonous song over and over. 



Even the flower colors, though bright, seemed 

 less emotional than those of the June fields, per- 

 haps because the sun's fierce rays somewhat ab- 

 sorbed and neutralized the reds and yellows. The 

 great patches of Prickly Pear or Indian Fig, with its 

 thick leaves set with tufts of spines, had managed 

 to find lodging in the earth, which in spots failed 

 to conceal the rock ledge in the near-by field, red 

 with Sheep Sorrel, bringing a picture of the arid 

 plains to the hillside. The showy blossoms, flow- 

 ers of a day, three inches across and set singly on 

 the leaf edges, are of a clear yellow, the petals 



