My First Summer 



Merced and Tuolumne, where there is a 

 small brook flowing through hazel and dog- 

 wood thickets beneath magnificent silver firs 

 and pines. Here we are camped for the night, 

 our big fire, heaped high with rosiny logs 

 and branches, is blazing like a sunrise, gladly 

 giving back the light slowly sifted from the 

 sunbeams of centuries of summers ; and in the 

 glow of that old sunlight how impressively 

 surrounding objects are brought forward in 

 relief against the outer darkness ! Grasses, 

 larkspurs, columbines, lilies, hazel bushes, 

 and the great trees form a circle around the 

 fire like thoughtful spectators, gazing and 

 listening with human-like enthusiasm. The 

 night breeze is cool, for all day we have been 

 climbing into the upper sky, the home of the 

 cloud mountains we so long have admired. 

 How sweet and keen the air ! Every breath 

 a blessing. Here the sugar pine reaches its 

 fullest development in size and beauty and 

 number of individuals, filling every swell and 

 hollow and down-plunging ravine almost to 



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