File:Literary pilgrimages of a naturalist (1911) (14580352517).jpg

Identifier: cu31924024736005 (find matches)
Title: Literary pilgrimages of a naturalist
Year: 1911 (1910s)
Authors: Packard, Winthrop, 1862-1943
Subjects: Natural history
Publisher: Boston, Small, Maynard and company
Contributing Library: Cornell University Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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t is different. Out of the grayreindeer moss and poverty weed which are moreprevalent than grass on the sands beneath thesetrees spire slender scapes of Spiranthes gracilis,the tiny orchid that someone named ladiestresses, not because the flower looks like thembut reminds of them, being wayward and fra-grant and lovingly blown by all winds. Here isgoldenrod, and wee asters are just opening theirbaby-blue eyes to the approaching autumn. Woodwarblers trill in the absurd forest, and the richaroma of its leaves subtends the lighter fra-grance of the blossoming wild flowers. Infeathery glades among these Truro trees onemight forget that winter is to come and bringbleakness and desolation unspeakable to the landwith him. But if winter does not always warn,the sea does. Not so deep in any witch hollowcan you hide, not so far may you wander in en-chanted forests, as to escape its call. The treesmurmur continually the song of the surf, and thecrash of its breakers echoes continually in the air
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T3 a CO * <f) fcl« -* u s ■£, O rt ;> C Q o -a 13 W) ON FIRST TRAIL OF PILGRIMS 87 overhead. The wind song in the trees is not men-acing, it is simply a minor melody, full of melan-choly, as if it knew sad things and could but letthem tinge its music. But even on quiet dayswhen the south wind drifts gently in. over thebay there sounds from the air above these mellowglades the growl of white-faced breakers thatare never still on the northern shore. Out of thenortheast they roll over gray-green leagues ofcold sea, and as they bite deep into the sand ofthe shore behind Peaked Hill Bar, and drag itand all that is on it down into their maw and hurlit all back again, beating it on the beach andsnatching it and beating it again, it roars in-articulate threats that make the onlooker drawback glad of a space of summer-dried sand be-tween him and its depths. If this threateningundertone lingers in the ear even on a summerday with the wind warm and fragrant from thesouth, h

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