AMONG THE WILD FLOWERS 1 



ONE sometimes seems to discover a familiar wild 

 flower anew by coming upon it in some pecu- 

 liar and striking situation. Our columbine is at all 

 times and in all places one of the most exquisitely 

 beautiful of flowers; yet one spring day, when I saw 

 it growing out of a small seam on the face of a great 

 lichen-covered wall of rock, where no soil or mould 

 was visible, — a jet of foliage and color shooting 

 out of a black line on the face of a perpendicular 

 mountain wall and rising up like a tiny fountain, 

 its drops turning to flame-colored jewels that hung 

 and danced in the air against the gray rocky sur- 

 face, — its beauty became something magical and 

 audacious. On little narrow shelves in the rocky 

 wall the corydalis was blooming, and among the 

 loose bowlders at its base the blood-root shone con- 

 spicuous, suggesting snow rather than anything more 

 sanguine. 



Certain flowers one makes special expeditions for 

 every season. They are limited in their ranges, 

 and must generally be sought for in particular 

 haunts. How many excursions to the woods does 

 the delicious trailing arbutus give rise to! How 



1 An excerpt from a chapter in Riverby. 



