Newport weekly independent., 1901-07-12
SWEET SUMMER SCENTS.
xid-Iuns and Early July the Season
 for Flower Lovers.

spring wild flowers earl y in June be- gins a succession of other blossoms, marked, however, with every differ ent character, says the New York Sun.
 Scarcely has the last great star of the dogwood fallen from the green Armament when the old farm lanes and the woodland edges of the sub nrbs are milky with blackberry blos eoms, frail and exquisite flowers, ar ranged in singularly decorative fash ion along the sprays. While the blackberry blossoms are not yet all open the tulip poplar unfolds its green cones into great beautiful tulip-like flowers, almost the handsomest blos- som of any native tree in this region.
 This blossom of the tulip poplar has peculiar distinction both of form and of color. No person with an eye for such qualities can look at it with out being struck with it's fitness as motif for decorative design.
 The pale yellow of the petals, scarcely more than a cream-tinted white with a faintsuggestion of green, Is accentuated by the rich salmon of the bee marks. These noble flowers, starring the glossy green of the fol- iage, mass of great broad truncated leaves, give the giant trees with their tall rigid trunks of oxidized silver singularly harmonious color effect.
 While the blackberry blossoms are running riot beneath and the tulip poplar is unfolding its glories on high, the wild grape is matching its bower against the heats of July and putting forth great punches of bloom that scent the whole thicket with the most delicious wild odor of the season.
 It is the coming of such odors that marks the advance of summer. The spring wild flowers are almost scent less, but mid-June and early July form season rich in balsamic smells. The wild hay fields of the suburbs under the midday sun then give forth delicious haunting odor, so widely distributed that one feels that 1t may perhaps be the mere natural perfume of the June atmosphere.
 Along with this mere delicious sweetness of the grass flowers and the more pronounced balm of the wild grape blossoms, go the pungent bal sams of the young hickory leaves, the tulip poplar's own tantalizing half sweet, half acrid smell, and the hun dred and one other odors, as of the hygienic wild cherry, and the mingled balm and spice of the broken spice wood boughs.
 All the new wood tingles with life and odor, the latter yielded naturally beneath the heat of the sun, or spilled as it were by bruising accidents, like the breaking of the box of precious ointment for which Mary Magdalen was reproved.
 The sunny noon of early summer is rich in odors that suggest heat and moisture, but the quiet after-sunset hour also has its peculiar charm of scent. When suburban hilltops, with here chimney, there a gable, and be- tween them the dark pillars of mo- tionless trees, are outlined against the cool rich purple of the evening hori- zon, while higher up the ethereal electric spark of the firefy moves in perverse flight across the almost col orless sky, then from the thicket along with the closing vespers of the wood thrush comes the exquisite fragrance of the wild grape, until it seems that sights and sounds and odor are in per- feet harmony, each in some sort a mode of expression for the same idea l of peace and blessedneSs.