A THOUSAND-YEAR PINE 



witnessed but of which he had made 

 no record. I wondered if he had en- 

 joyed the changing of seasons. I 

 knew that he had often boomed or 

 hymned in the storm or the breeze. 

 Many a monumental robe of snow- 

 flowers had he worn. More than a 

 thousand times he had beheld the 

 earth burst into bloom amid happy 

 songs of mating birds; hundreds of 

 times in summer he had worn count- 

 less crystal rain- jewels in the sunlight 

 of the breaking storm, while the bril- 

 liant rainbow came and vanished on 

 the near-by mountain-side. Ten thou- 

 sand times he had stood silent in the 

 lonely light of the white and mystic 

 moon. 



Twilight was fading into darkness 

 when I arose and started on my night 

 37 



