Calypso

Where the sun penetrates the canopy and where enough moisture is retained by the thin skin of moss, needles, and lichens that imperfectly covers the boulders, small flowers grow: the bold, white stars of the creeping dogwood; the tiny, shell-pink, scented bells of the twinflower; the sarsaparilla, whose stems are so thin that the mat of broad leaves seems to float like a magic carpet above the ground; and, most precious of all, the fairylike calypso orchid, whose shy magenta face bows toward the shadowy forest floor.

—Chris Czajkowski, Cabin at Singing River