In the Sierra 



mouths of the flowers. Cumuli rising to the 

 eastward. How beautiful their pearly bosses ! 

 How well they harmonize with the upswell- 

 ing rocks beneath them. Mountains of the 

 sky, solid-looking, finely sculptured, their 

 richly varied topography wonderfully de- 

 fined. Never before have I seen clouds so 

 substantial looking in form and texture. 

 Nearly every day toward noon they rise with 

 visible swelling motion as if new worlds 

 were being created. And how fondly they 

 brood and hover over the gardens and for- 

 ests with their cooling shadows and show- 

 ers, keeping every petal and leaf in glad 

 health and heart. One may fancy the clouds 

 themselves are plants, springing up in the 

 sky-fields at the call of the sun, growing in 

 beauty until they reach their prime, scat- 

 tering rain and hail like berries and seeds, 

 then wilting and dying. 



The mountain live oak, common here and 

 a thousand feet or so higher, is like the live oak 

 of Florida, not only in general appearance, 

 [ 49] 



