IN CALIFORNIA 251 



lie, flung by rows of giant eucalypts and by huge 

 Monterey cypresses all golden-dusted with their 

 lilliputian bloom; out into emerald valleys where 

 cattle graze and the coast live-oaks stand in the 

 same majesty that compelled Vancouver's admira- 

 tion a century and a quarter ago; past the old 

 palaces of Bonanza Kings and through Burlingame 

 and San Mateo, Menlo Park and Palo Alto, with 

 riot of roses and wisteria wreathing gate-posts and 

 cascading over roofs and balconies they find it a 

 pleasant road to travel, even though there were no 

 feast of flowers awaiting them in the orchards of 

 Santa Clara. 



In the foothills at the western edge of the valley, 

 is the village of Saratoga. Half a generation ago 

 after three successive seasons of heart-breaking 

 drought that had all but drained the country of its 

 last dollar, the coming around of normal conditions 

 inspired the orchardists of the vicinity to commem- 

 orate the return of fruitfulness with some special 

 ceremonies. So they instituted what they call Blos- 

 som Day, which now for fifteen years has been cele- 

 brated every spring on the oak-fringed village green, 

 at the time of the blooming of the prunes. From 

 far and wide, the residents of the Valley and their 

 visiting friends come to the festival in electric car 

 and automobile, by ranch wagon and on horseback, 



