AND ITS MESSAGE 



Last year a member of our 

 Sierra Club wrote a very beautiful 

 little poem entitled "The Moun- 

 tain Trail." It has not yet been 

 published and I am not at liberty 

 to reproduce it in print. It tells 

 of how the trail winds its way up 

 the mountain side, through the 

 flower-strewn mountain meadows, 

 across the rushing rivers, up the 

 great rock slopes, and even over 

 the gleaming snow, and closes with 

 the longing that it may go on for- 

 ever. 



"Over the misty mountains, 



Past the wide heights of blue, 

 Even to the crystal fountains, 

 Where all the dreams come true." 



I do not wonder thaVthe moun- 

 tain trail should arouse a poet to 

 song, for I have spent days on the 

 mountain trail which were in them- 

 selves like poems lived, and the 

 memory of which is like the echo 

 [13] 



