BROOK AND LAGOON 



185 



in unison. 



BROOKSIDE SEDGES 



Putting my peanut seed into my pocket as a 

 trophy, I went back to my boat and took up the 

 oars. Beyond, the stream was beginning to widen 

 into a sort of lagoon. The banks were less shaded 

 and the plants more like those of the open country. 

 There Joe-Pye weed and goldenrod nodded at each 

 other over a mirror, and their reflections nodded 

 Swamp milkweed in full flower and 

 the deep blue lobelia crowded 

 each other, and their posses- 

 sion of the place was dis- 

 puted by boneset and monkey- 

 flower. Sedges of all shapes 

 and sizes crowded each other 

 in this wild garden; from the 

 tiny ones no taller than my 

 ringer and crouching on the 

 very floor, to the coarse, harsh-leaved ones 

 with great hard balls surmounting their 

 stems: all were there. I looked for a bit of 

 red in all this riot of color, nor was I dis- 

 appointed. A plant of monarda or Oswego 

 tea had somehow found its way down stream into 

 this colony and added its bright note to the har- 

 monious whole. 



I rowed over to a clump of swamp milkweed 

 so near the bank of the stream that its reflection 

 was as distinct as the plant itself. Reaching forth, 

 I drew the strong, firm stems toward me. Once 

 before I had gathered these flowers for a wild 

 bouquet, but now I knew better. They do not take 

 kindly to vases. They have no parlor manners, for 



