A Time for Everything 



pollen of a pink wild rose. Did you 

 ever notice the marvelous deep-sea 

 blue of the spiderwort blooming 

 alongside the roadway in the grass? 

 For most of you it has no existence 

 whatsoever. You might miss the 

 "movies" if you do not hurry; so if 

 I prefer rather to loiter by the way 

 and wait for the sunset that is to be 

 so rare this evening, or for great Jupiter 

 and far-off Saturn to show their splen- 

 did lights, I shall not have much 

 company. 



We might all with profit know some- 

 thing more about our relatives that 

 live in nests or burrows differing some- 

 what from our own. They wear dif- 

 ferent raiment, but their vital organs 

 function in the universal way. They 

 have habits, aspirations, and the im- 

 mortality that is implied in repro- 

 duction, varying not in the least, so 

 far as I can see, from our own. If any 

 one man knew all that Linne knew of 

 plants, all that Fabre knew of bugs, 



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