The most, therefore, we can accomplish in Japanese modes of gardening is to ape them; and of this, because of its emptiness, we shall very soon tire. The things which are most enduring are the things honestly felt and thought; for the expression of the true self reaches out nearest to satisfaction. Unless, then, we are apes in more than ancestry, Japanese gardening can have no long life among us. Alpine gardening is far more akin to our natural or hereditary instincts; it holds for us the possibility of an easier and more honest appreciation. And it is just here, in this very fact, where lies much of the danger which may overtake and smother the immense and growing enthusiasm with which Alpines are meeting.


How best, then, to direct and build up this enthusiasm into something substantial, something that shall secure for Alpines a lasting place in our affections? The answer is in another question: What better than a larger, more comprehensive appeal to Alpine nature; what better than a more thorough translation of Alpine circumstance to our grounds and gardens?

Now, to this end we must look around us in the Alps to find that element in plant-life which we have hitherto neglected; and if we do this, our eyes must undoubtedly alight upon the fields. Hitherto these have been a greatly neglected quantity with us when planning our Alpine gardens, and their possibilities have been almost entirely overlooked in respect of our home-lands. Why should we not make more pronounced attempts to create such meadows, either as befitting adjuncts to our rock works or as embellishments to our parks? I venture to think that such an extension and direction of our enthusiasm would add much sterling popularity to that already acquired by Alpines in our midst, besides doing far greater justice to many of their number. I venture to think, also, that it would add much to the joy and health of home-life. These thoughts, therefore, shall be developed and examined as we push forward with this volume, first of all making a careful study of the fields on the spot, and marking their “moods and tenses.”


CHAPTER II

ALPINE FLOWER-FIELDS

“If you go to the open field, you shall always be in contact directly with the Nature. You hear how sweetly those innocent birds are singing. You see how beautifully those meadow-flowers are blossoming.... Everything you are observing there is pure and sacred. And you yourselves are unconsciously converted into purity by the Nature.”—YOSHIO MARKINO, My Idealed John Bulless.

Alpine Flower-fields; it is well that we should at once come to some understanding as to the term “Alpine” and what it is here intended to convey, otherwise it will be open to misinterpretation. Purists in the use of words will be nearer to our present meaning than they who have in mind the modern and general acceptation of the words “Alp” and “Alpine.” The authority of custom has confirmed these words in what, really, is faulty usage. “Alp” really means a mountain pasturage, and its original use, traceable for more than a thousand years, relates to any part of a mountain where the cattle can graze. It does not mean merely the snow-clad summit of some important mountain. Nor does “Alpine” mean that region of a mountain which is above the tree-limit.