Fragrant Quote of August 23rd, 2012-Saint Anne of the Mountains: the story of a summer in a Canadian pilgrimage ... By Effie Molt Bignell

Twin Flower Image Credit




And all around us in every direction, now clustering under the trees, now venturing out into the half shady open, riots a delicate evergreen vine bearing braces of as exquisite flowers as one could wish to see. The namesake and best beloved of the Great Linnaeus —the twin flower—the Linnaeus borealis— whose vines carry it to the door of our lodge, and whose tiny blossoms sometimes peer inquiringly into our very dwelling, while their perfumed breath mingles with the fragrance of the balsam fir. Was ever combination of fragrance more luscious or more delicate than this?

"She clings with her little arms to the moss," said Linnaeus, when telling a friend of the ways of his favorite flower—"and seems to resist very gently if you force her from it. She has a complexion like the milkmaid; and oh! she is very, very sweet and agreeable."

In the moist regions at the entrance to our bush are entire fields of the wild blue flag, and the outlying meadows of which the opening near our hut permits us to gain glimpses, are gay and fragrant with clover and buttercups, and whitened with daisies. Hardy ferns, golden rod, Joe Pye weed and many other sturdy plants and flower folk line the roadside, while the blue vetch flings its tendrils over field and wayside flowers alike. Researches in the deeper woods gain for us visions of delicate, spirit-like ferns and of timid, shade—and moisture-loving plants and flowers. The pipe of peace and the moccasin plant (the pied de cheval, the latter is not unaptly termed by our villagers) being among our most highly prized trophies.