A Thousand-Mile Walk 



hewn for the locomotive, walking sometimes 

 between the rails, stepping from tie to tie, or 

 walking on the strip of sand at the sides, gazing 

 into the mysterious forest, Nature s own. It is 

 impossible to write the dimmest picture of 

 plant grandeur so redundant, unfathomable. 



s&amp;gt; - Short was the measure of my walk to-day. 

 A new, canelike grass, or big lily, or gorgeous 

 flower belonging to tree or vine, would catch 

 my attention, and I would throw down my bag 

 and press and splash through the coffee-brown 

 water for specimens. Frequently I sank deeper 

 and deeper until compelled to turn back and 

 make the attempt in another and still another 

 place. Oftentimes I was tangled in a laby 

 rinth of armed vines like a fly in a spider-web. 

 At all times, whether wading or climbing a tree 

 for specimens of fruit, I was overwhelmed with 

 the vastness and unapproachableness of the 

 great guarded sea of sunny plants. 



Magnolia grandiflora I had seen in Georgia; 

 but its home, its better land, is here. Its 

 large dark-green leaves, glossy bright above 

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