GARDENS OF THE SEA 237 



esting trees in the country. It has a dignity of its 

 own. It loves conspicuous and high places, where it 

 can look out on the world. At San Clemente I never 

 wearied watching it on the summits, taking new forms 

 as we moved down the coast or climbed the slopes. 

 In June it is in flower, white and beautiful, and can 

 be seen plainly from the old Indian camp ground at 

 the mouth of Swain's. 



The Santa Catalina caiions near the point are rivers 

 of verdure leading down to the sea. I have had some 

 interesting experiences trying to ride them with herd- 

 ers and climbing them afoot. Like apple trees on 

 some of the slopes are the white flowers of the tree 

 poppy {Dendromecon). Some one might have picked 

 giant poppies and fastened them onto a manzanita as 

 a joke, as at first glance one gains such an impres- 

 sion. Standing on the slope of some of these canons 

 the eye often rests on rare plants never seen elsewhere, 

 or rarely. 



In the winter the cafion runs riot with verdure. 

 The little stream revels musically beneath the willows 

 laden with clematis, the wild rose blocks the way, and 

 great brakes and ferns form a luxuriant growth on 

 the caiion sides. Rising on the south is the Cabrillo 

 range of mountains, following the caiion, its sides cut 

 by innumerable gorges that tempt the stroller. Into 

 them the sun penetrates, chasing out the shadows, 

 and producing a soft opaline haze that softens the 

 landscape and gives it new beauties. As the caiion 

 widens it is carpeted (this winter day) with flowers, 

 while great patches of cactus add to its picturesque 

 features. The note of the quail comes on the soft 

 wind, the roar of their wings telling of astonishing 



