The Cypresses 



seeds 1 8 to 20 under each middle scale. Preferred habitat, exposea 

 coast bluffs. Distribution, around Bay of Monterey, California. 

 Uses: Planted for windbreaks and hedges, and for ornament. 



The Pacific coast forests thrill the heart of the Easterner, 

 unless that heart be petrified by commercialism. Even then, the 

 thrill is there, though it be a materialistic vibration, accompanied 

 by a mental estimate in terms of board feet. The thrill changes 

 from wonder to pity as the tree lover looks upon that small remnant 

 of its race, the Monterey cypresses, that cling to the wind-beaten 

 promontories about Monterey Bay. They look like battle-scarred 

 veterans making a stubborn though hopeless stand in the last 

 ditch. And that, literally, is the state of their fortunes. Wide 

 as their gnarled roots range for foothold, the crumbling bluffs are 

 gradually undermined by the waves, and one by one those in the 

 front rank go down. The hungry waves will never give up the 

 siege, and the last of the trees in their native soil will in time be 

 swept out of existence. 



Fortunately the species is hardy and happy in cultivation 

 far from its native land. It is known in several horticultural 

 forms as well as the type species in temperate South America, 

 Australia and New Zealand. In southern and western Europe 

 it is in great favour, and at home it is planted very generally for 

 ornament and for hedges up and down the Pacific coast. Lately 

 it is coming into use in the Southeastern States. Hence, the tree 

 is saved to a larger life by man's intervention, although Nature 

 ruthlessly lets extermination overtake it in the struggle for exist- 

 ence. It is to be hoped that age will bring these cultivated 

 cypresses to something like the picturesque habit that distin- 

 guishes the trees that grow wild. No pine of the Alps ever took 

 on such grotesqueness as marks the Monterey cypresses. 



The Cypresses of Monterey 



Staunch derelicts adrift on Time's wide sea, 



Undaunted exiles from an age pristine! 

 Your loneliness in tortured limb we see; 



Your courage in your crown of living green; 

 Your strength unyielding, in your grappling knee; 



Your patience in the calmness of your mien. 

 Enrapt, you stand in mighty reverie. 



While centuries come and go, unheard, unseen. 



— Anna Botsford Comstock. 

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