Speaking of new plants, a fellow flower enthusiast, Dave Behm, sent a comment to my blog post about finding Whitlow Grass (Draba verna), noting that he had just found it for the first time, too. And he suggested I read what Aldo Leopold had to say about Draba verna. Which I did. And it was so wonderful, I'm repeating it here in full. In many ways, what Leopold said about Draba verna could be said as well about all the flowers I found today.
Within a few weeks now Draba, the smallest flower that blows, will sprinkle every sandy place with small blooms. He who hopes for spring with upturned eye never sees so small a thing as Draba. He who despairs of spring with downcast eye steps on it, unknowing. He who searches for spring with his knees in the mud finds it, in abundance.Draba asks, and gets but scant allowance of warmth and comfort; it subsists on the leavings of unwanted time and space. Botany books give it two or three lines, but never a plate or portrait. Sand too poor and sun too weak for bigger better blooms are good enough for Draba. After all, it is no spring flower, but only a postscript to a hope.Draba plucks no heartstrings. Its perfume, if there is any, is lost in the gusty winds. Its color is plain white. Its leaves wear a sensible woolly coat. Nothing eats it; it is too small. No poets sing of it. Some botanist once gave it a Latin name, and then forgot it. Altogether it is of no importance -- just a small creature that does a small job quickly and well.Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac, 1949