THE CAMERA. 



4^ 



POSING FOR THEIR PICTURE 



The white spots on the ground are pebbles 



covered with frost. 



siderable time. Persons living in the 

 mountains even do not often experience 

 such conditions as will clothe the 

 branches of trees in such a foliage of 

 frost as the accompanying" photo- 

 graphs show. These pictures were 

 secured in Northern New Mexico at 

 an elevation of sixty-six hundred feet 

 in the month of February, after the 

 town had been bathed in the north- 

 ward drifting clouds for five days. It 

 will be observed that the limbs of these 

 trees appear much like those of some 

 common evergreens, with the spiney 

 leaves one and one-half to two inches 

 long- — frost crystals two inches long! 

 A foliage the heaviest they ever bore 

 and white as snow can be — everywhere 

 and on everything! No work of art 

 could have been so pretty and all the 

 artists of all the ages cotild not have 

 delved a decoration so vast, so univer- 

 sal. It would not shake off, and we 

 lived there day after day for five days, 

 retiring on the evening of the first day 

 feeling that we had never experienced 

 such beauty of nature. But the second 

 day was better. The third it had in- 

 tensified and the fourth and fifth days 

 ;grew in beauty as the frost crystals 



extended themselves, and we wondered 

 when the glory of God in this moun- 

 tain retreat would cease — when this 

 sacred white verdure could grow no 

 denser. But on the sixth day it had 

 attained its maturity. It was one of 

 those unusual developments of nature 

 that abhors the sunshine. An hour of 

 golden beams of a bright morning and 

 the crystal leaflets had spent their 

 freezing summer and had found their 

 autumn. They lav as drabbled snow 

 beneath the now blackened limbs that 

 had borne them. Another hour and 

 they had mingled with the dust; they 

 had done their part to make mud. 



In less than a week even the mem- 

 ory of this marvelous beauty had faded 

 and but for the few "snap shots"- 

 memory's archive the most gorgeous 

 display of nature's tinsel that I ever 

 beheld would have been forgotten. 



WHEN THE CLOUDS OF FOG WERE 



STILL LOW, SLIGHTLY OBSCURING 



DISTANT OBJECTS 



