A LABRADOR SPRING 
pollen floated on the pools of water that came 
from the dwindling snowbanks. Snowbanks 
were everywhere, the largest often on the 
warmest or southern slopes, a paradox that 
could be explained by the fact that in the 
southern lees, the snow, driven by the pre- 
vailing northerly gales of winter, had accumu- 
lated to great depths, and, although exposed 
to more sunlight, took longer to melt than 
did the smaller banks on the wind-swept 
northern exposures. The larch and the canoe 
birch, the mountain ash, and the red osier 
were all bare and wintery, but on the ground 
an occasional fresh grass blade, or the bud 
of the cow parsnip, —Cartwright’s “ alex- 
ander,’’ — could be found. 
The presence of such arctic birds as snow- 
buntings, making the green spruces look like 
Christmas trees when they perched on their 
branches, added to the wintery aspect of the 
scene, and although the hardier summer birds 
like the robin, fox sparrow, Lincoln’s sparrow, 
white-throated and white-crowned sparrows 
had arrived and were in full song, most of the 
summer residents were still tarrying farther 
south, and had been passed during our more 
4 
