112 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE. 



boom of gigantic breakers beats and 

 wastes a useless strength on the impreg- 

 nable walls of stone. The foam of this 

 endless strife breaks hundreds of feet into 

 the air and the restless waters surge back 

 again to gather strength for a new at- 



"A CLIFF COLONY CHARMINGLY SET ON 

 THE BROWN SANDSTONE BLUFFS. " 



tack. The nearest cave, a mammoth 

 vault forty feet high and two hundred 

 feet long, may always be reached by a 

 tunnel which has been excavated from 

 the land side. Its entrance is in the 

 hands of a proprietor, and if your sense 

 of curiosity is more than your spirit of 

 daring you may enter by this more con- 

 ventional way. 



But the '"white lady of La Jolla?" All 

 sorts of vague accounts you hear of this 

 phantom lady of the sea. At extreme 

 low tide you make your way along the 

 slippery cliffs over an uncertain pathway 

 piled high with seaweed wreckage. Now 

 and then you slide into an eddying pool. 

 At length you reach the mouth of the 

 first cave. Threading in and out among 

 the rocky halls you come at last to a 

 cave more spacious than the rest. You 

 turn your eyes seaward and there in 

 the mouth of this cave, filling its en- 

 trance, stands the mystic white lady. 

 1 ler radiant form is clothed in gar- 

 ments of light. She stands expectant, 

 listening, her bridal veil sweeping from 

 her queenly head envelops her tall form 

 and trails its shimmering folds down to 

 the water's edge. The older settlers aver 

 that this strange, life-like form sculp- 

 tured from the rocks which form the 

 mouth of this cave is the likeness of an 

 unfortunate bride who in early days was 

 overtaken by the treacherous tides while 

 she was exploring the interior of the 

 cave. 



At every step La folia's surf line is 

 made up of entirely different features. 



Beneath the Natural Bridge lies the 

 roadway to Rocky Point. Here a series 

 of shelf-like benches have been worn by 

 the action of the waves. The honey- 

 combed surfaces of the upper levels are 

 riddled through and through with the de- 

 serted dwelling places of innumerable 

 colonies of mollusks that have lost out in 

 the ceaseless struggle for existence. On 

 the lower benches, just below the sur- 

 face of the water, lie the "marine gar- 

 dens." From the vantage point of a 

 huge boulder you may sit and sun your- 

 self and study these matchless gardens 

 of the sea. Marvels of glowing color 

 and moving grace, their sinuous, undu- 

 lating folds rise and fall with each move- 

 ment of the waves, like trees blown bv 



vagrant breezes. 



A 



garden without 



