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Updated: June 11, 2025
But one of them took courage and peeped out over the earth. "Good-morning!" cried the withered Beech Leaves. "It is a little too early, little lady. I hope you will be none the worse for it." "Isn't it my Lady Spring?" inquired the Anemone. "Not yet," answered the Beech Leaves. "It is only the green Beech Leaves that you were so angry with last summer.
He leaned over his window-sill, and stared stupidly at the great stone bears carved on the portals of Saint Margaret's; his eyes wandered listlessly over the smooth turf of the Fellows' bowling-green, and the trim parterres full of crocus and anemone and violet which fringed it; he watched the boats skim past him on the winding gleams of the Iscam, and shoot among the water-lilies by the bridge and then he stared upwards at the sun, trying to think of nothing until his eyes watered, and then the sight of a don in the garden below made him shrink back, to avoid observation, into his own room.
I thought I might encourage him by telling him something he would be pleased to hear. "McConkey," I said, "who is foreman in the Green Loaney Scutching Mill, is buying a splendid quick-firing gun." The remark did not have the effect I hoped for. It had an exactly opposite effect. Crossan shut up like a sea anemone suddenly touched. "Your lordship's affairs won't be neglected," he said stiffly.
Lambs were out in the fields, primroses grew in clumps under the hedgerows, hazel catkins flung showers of pollen to the winds, and in the coppice that bordered the road pale-mauve March violets and white anemone stars showed through last year's carpet of dead leaves.
Many sub-alpine plants occur here, as Lecesteria, Thalictrum, rose, thistles, alder, birch, ferns, berberry, holly, anemone, strawberry, raspberry, Gnaphalium, the alpine bamboo, and oaks.
Most of these wreaths were formed of a sweet-scented grass which the children loved to keep in their desks, entwined with the pompon-like plumes of the buckeye and syringa, the wood anemone, and here and there the master noticed the dark blue cowl of the monk's-hood or deadly aconite.
There are many varieties, some of which are very delicate, as the Actinia anguicoma, or Snaky-locked Anemone, and the pink and brown Actinia bellis, which so resembles a daisy. Others, as the Actinia parasitica, are obtainable only by deep-sea dredging; "and, as its name implies, it usually inhabits the shell of some defunct mollusk.
"Paas-bloeme" one suspects is the Rondout Valley origin of this term applied to a flower, possibly seen by the author on this occasion for the first time the American pasque-flower, the Iowa prairie type of which is Anemone patens: the knightliest little flower of the Iowa uplands. G.v.d.M. The wild-fowl were clamoring north for the summer's campaign of nesting.
Nature can show effects the significations of which are limitless; they rise to the grandeur of the highest moral conceptions be it the heather in bloom, covered with the diamonds of the dew on which the sunlight dances; infinitude decked for the single glance that may chance to fall upon it: be it a corner of the forest hemmed in with time-worn rocks crumbling to gravel and clothed with mosses overgrown with juniper, which grasps our minds as something savage, aggressive, terrifying as the cry of the kestrel issuing from it: be it a hot and barren moor without vegetation, stony, rigid, its horizon like those of the desert, where once I gathered a sublime and solitary flower, the anemone pulsatilla, with its violet petals opening for the golden stamens; affecting image of my pure idol alone in her valley: be it great sheets of water, where nature casts those spots of greenery, a species of transition between the plant and animal, where life makes haste to come in flowers and insects, floating there like worlds in ether: be it a cottage with its garden of cabbages, its vineyards, its hedges overhanging a bog, surrounded by a few sparse fields of rye; true image of many humble existences: be it a forest path like some cathedral nave, where the trees are columns and their branches arch the roof, at the far end of which a light breaks through, mingled with shadows or tinted with sunset reds athwart the leaves which gleam like the colored windows of a chancel: then, leaving these woods so cool and branchy, behold a chalk-land lying fallow, where among the warm and cavernous mosses adders glide to their lairs, or lift their proud slim heads.
There has been but one flower found in this vicinity, and that was an anemone, a poor, pale, shivering little flower, that had crept under a stone-wall for shelter. Mr. Farley found it, while taking a walk with me. . . . . This is May-day! Alas, what a difference between the ideal and the real!
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