To get the flowers you
climb the mountain to one side, and,
balancing on the rock's thin edge, slip
down by roots and past rattlesnake dens
till you hang out over the water and
reach for them. To avoid snakes it is
best to go when it is cool, at daybreak.
I know but one other place in this
southwest corner of Virginia where
there is another bush of purple
rhododendron, and one bush only is there.
This hangs at the throat of a peak not
far away, whose ageless gray head is
bent over a ravine that sinks like a
spear thrust into the side of the
mountain. Swept only by high wind and
eagle wings as this is, I yet knew one
man foolhardy enough to climb to it
for a flower. He brought one blossom
down: and to this day I do not know
that it was not the act of a coward;
yes, though Grayson did it, actually
smiling all the way from peak to ravine,
and though he was my best friend
--best loved then and since. I believe
he was the strangest man I have ever
known, and I say this with thought;
for his eccentricities were sincere. In
all he did I cannot remember having
even suspected anything theatrical but
once.
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