Thrill, like Aeolian harp, the twilight air—
So the dear garden claims its mystic due.
Linking the legends of the Old and New.
FRANCES MARGARET MILNE,
in The Grizzly Bear Magazine, June, 1909.
AUGUST 29.
The evening primrose covers the lower slopes with long sheets of brightest yellow, and from the hills above, the rock-rose adds its golden bloom to that of the sorrel and the wild alfalfa, until the hills almost outshine the bright light from the slopes and plains. And through all this nods a tulip of delicate lavender; vetches, lupins and all the members of the wild-pea family are pushing and winding their way everywhere in every shade of crimson, purple and white. New bell-flowers of white and blue and indigo rise above the first, which served merely as ushers to the display, and whole acres ablaze with the orange of the poppy are fast turning with the indigo of the larkspur. The mimulus alone is almost enough to color the hills.
T.S. VAN DYKE,
in Southern California.
AUGUST 30.