TROLLIUS EUROPÆUS, the Globe Flower, on the cloud-swept fields in early June.
And what a wondrous region it is, this which is of sufficient altitude for Nature to be thrown right out of what, in the plains, is her normal habit; where the Cherry-tree, if planted, blooms only about the middle of June; where the Eglantine is in full splendour in the middle of July and can be gathered well into August; where the blackbird is still piping at the end of July; where the wild Laburnum is in blossom in August; and where quantities of ripe fruit of the wild Currant, Raspberry, and Strawberry may be picked in September.
And Champex, too, what a favoured and beautiful place! I have chosen this particular spot as the “base of operations,” because of its variety in physical aspect, and, consequently, its variety in flowers. This plan I have deemed of more use than to wander from place to place, and I think that, on the whole, it will be fair to the Swiss Alpine field-flora. We can take note from time to time of what is not to be found here; for, of course, Champex does not possess all the varieties of Alpine field-flowers. Lilium croceum, Anemone alpina, Narcissus poeticus, and the Daffodil are, for instance, notable absentees. The soil is granitic rather than calcareous. Yet, taking all in all, the flora is wonderfully representative; and it certainly is exceptionally rich.
Situated upon what is really a broad, roomy col between the Catogne and that extreme western portion of the Mont Blanc massif containing the Aiguille du Tour and the Pointe d’Orny, Champex, with its sparkling lake and cluster of hotels and châlets, dominates to the south the valleys of Ferret and Entremont, and to the north the valley of the Dranse, thus offering rich, well-watered pasture-slopes of varied aspect and capacity. Whether it be upon the undulating pastures falling away to the Gorges du Durnand, or upon the steeper fields leading down to Praz-de-Fort and Orsières, 1,000 and 2,000 feet below; or whether it be upon the luxuriant, marshy meadows immediately around the lake, or upon the slightly higher, juicy grass-land of the wild and picturesque Val d’Arpette, there is an ever-changing and gorgeous luxury of colour which must be seen to be believed. “The world’s a-flower,” and a-flower without one single trace of sameness. Whichever way we walk, whichever way we gaze, the eye meets with some fresh combination of tints, some new and arresting congregation of field-flowers.
It is too much, perhaps, to say of any place that it is
“The only point where human bliss stands still,
And tastes the good without the fall to ill.”
But if such eulogy ever were permissible it would be so of Champex and her flower-strewn fields and slopes in May and June and early in July. In any case, we may unquestionably allow ourselves to quote further of Pope’s lines and say that, amid these fields, if anywhere, we are able to