THE TREE OF LEGEND AND ROMANCE 



77 



Photograph by Mark Daniels. 



A VISTA ON LOBOS POINT 

 At every turn of the winding trail a new vista, startling in its exotic character, 

 bewilders the observer, until the sense of location and direction is all but lost. 

 Climbing amongst the trees and rocks on this rugged point is as hazardous as 

 threading the twisting lanes of the old-fashioned maze. 



the Stragglers of the great eastern forests that 

 were cut ofT by the Pacitic is ahnost always the 

 first subject of conjecture on the part of the 

 tourist. 



About 125 miles down the coast from San 

 Francisco lies the Bay of Monterey, at the south- 

 ern extremity of which the first cypress trees arc 

 to be found. These trees possess more the charac- 

 ter of the cedar of Lebanon than they do of any 

 \'ariety of cypress, and are known to those who 

 burden their minds with etymological detail as 

 the ciiprcssiis marcrocarpa. From this point, 

 which is known as the Del Monte Peninsula, and 

 which forms the southern shores of this wonder- 

 ful sapphire bay, picturesque groves and occa- 

 sional isolated specimens are dotted along the 

 coast for some twenty-odd miles to Lobos Point. 

 Here, again, the old adage, "It never rains but 

 it pours," is borne out by the riot of exquisite 

 beauty which confronts the observer on everv 

 side. Nature seems to have concentrated on this 

 locality in the development of extremes of pic- 

 turesqueness and intensity of color. The shore 

 Hue is broken and jagged, with here and there a 

 stretch of ivory-colored sand beach, terminated 

 and broken by precipitous cliiTs, against which 

 the indigo sea hurls its pearls and sheets of 

 water that are a pale jade green against the 

 lemon-colored horizon and the setting sun. A 

 motor trip along the coast line gives one the effect 

 of a kaleidescopic change of coloring, the rapid 

 succession of which should vary with the speed 



amongst the conifers of the Sierra Ne- 

 vada. In fact, in many respects they 

 remind one of the "big trees," as they are 

 called ; for they have a most distinct 

 individuality which makes them stand 

 out alone. They are to be found only in 

 a certain locality, and their age is mucli 

 disputed. I have heard the last-named 

 estimated to be from 100 to 7,000 years, 

 and there seems to be no reconciling the 

 various contestants. However, the ques- 

 tion of whether they have seen one or 

 twenty generations of time would seem 

 to be of small moment, in the light of the 

 fact that they are struggling through the 

 last few years of one generation of 

 American tourists. But they seem to 

 stand the storm of "Oh's" and "Ah's" 

 with that same fortitude with which they 

 resist the gales and blasts of that beloved 

 seacoast on the very edge of which they 

 spread their spiraled roots. Growing 

 down at the actual verge of the sea, with 

 bare branches stretched out like arms 

 toward the land of the setting sun, the 

 question of whether they are the van- 

 guard of an ancient western growth or 



Photograph by Mark Daniels. 



THE VANGUARD OF THE FOREST— A STUDY IN THE HARMONY OF 

 HORIZONTAL LINES 

 The branches beneath the tops of evergreen are frequently horizontal and almost parallel to 

 the gracefully curved or sloping tops. With the sparkle of the reflected sun and the 

 gold of the horizon line, tliese branches and vivid green tops form a composition in the 

 harmony of attitudes and a study in purples, greens and golds. 



