FLOWERS OF HIGH ALTITUDES 79 



it, you are startled. It quivers and has warmer 

 tints. Then you realize that the snow has been 

 replaced overnight by the Anemones. Even though 

 their advent is the same year after year, it never 

 loses the effect of magic. The explanation is sim- 

 ple. The earth is so warm that it melts the snow 

 next to it, making a cave with just a thin crust 

 between it and the sky. The Anemone, eager 

 for a glimpse of the sun, starts her growth under 

 this crust, in this conservatory as it were; and the 

 very hour the crust disappears, she flings wide 

 her floral banners. In her haste she does not 

 bother to make a corolla, but she tints her calyxes 

 blue and lavender and pink and cream, all in the 

 softest Dresden hues, so that no insect suspects that 

 she is not wearing a full outfit. She has many sta- 

 mens and a delicate meal spread. Any early bug is 

 well paid for the services he renders her. The 

 blossoms are so dainty, waving over the gray-green 

 deeply-cleft leaves that they appeal to the human as 

 does the Baby-Blue-Eyes at the Coast. The Anem- 

 one is buoyant with life only just after the snow has 

 left her. In a couple of weeks, both blossoms and 

 leaves on the same patch grow smaller and nar- 

 rower. One not acquainted with their habits would 

 think them a different plant. But, higher up, new 

 Anemones are emerging from under hollow snow, 

 so that, beginning at 6,500 feet in early June, one 



