Ifferjenn Independent

I went for a walk in the woods with John this weekend, and the whole time we walked through this marshy spot, I kept hearing this poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson, which we sang in high school chorus:

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
The purple petals fallen in the pool
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing,
Then beauty is its own excuse for Being;
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask; I never knew;
But in my simple ignorance suppose
The self-same power that brought me there, brought you.

Best part about this story is that I kept assuming this was a rhododendron. Except then I googled it. These are totally not rhododendrons, by the way.

At least the seed packets I bought for my garden said what they were on the packages…