Vladimir Nabokov The Gift: "There
on the slopes of a snowy range, which were drowned in the rich, rosy foam of
I looked in May for the slate-gray, orange-spotted larvae of the Imperial
Apollo... From the
rhododendrons and from the pines draped in lacy lichen
came a heady smell of resin"
was a small lake, the banks of which were clothed in rhododendrons.
pine trees had a beautiful lichen growing on them of a pea-green colour,
which hung from the limbs and branches in graceful festoons”