April, 1920 
!3l)£ ^Flower (Brower 
51 
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Mountains and Flowers 
in California. 
We have had gentle rains, 
I say we because although I 
have been in this delightful 
country only a few short 
weeks I am beginning to 
have a feeling of affiliation, 
not as a tourist partakes of 
the pleasant and unpleasant 
features that may lay in 
his pathway, but because of a growing 
love of a country so full of interest and 
charm even in its midwinter season of 
rest, that I feel that its joys and sor- 
rows are in a measure becoming mine. 
chasm nearly a mile be- 
low. To gain this height 
we made the nearly perpen- 
dicular ascent of the Great 
Incline 3000 feet long, fol- 
lowed by a five mile elec- 
tric car ride — ever ascend- 
ing— on which there were 
127 curves and many 
bridges. There were thirty 
people in the car, our spe- 
cial party numbering nine. 
All were exclaiming of the beauty and 
grandeur of the scene, but, honestly, 
I was glad to have a middle seat. 
The mountain sides were covered 
with trees, mostly pine, and shrubby 
Gathering the flowering branches on Mt. Lowe, California. 
girls in picturesque mountain climbing 
costumes, made the mountain ring 
with college songs. After leaving the 
observatory all lights were off, but the 
stupendous cliffs and yawning chasms 
were plainly visible by the clearest, 
brightest moonlight I ever saw. Awed 
into silence, self forgotten and all 
nervousness gone, we looked upon 
what? We had been above the clouds 
many times lately, but were we above 
the heavens too ? Picture, if you can, 
the myriad twinkling lights of such 
cities as Los Angeles, Pasadena, and 
more than forty additional towns. 
“She’s lit,” came from one of the 
campers and the spell was broken. 
Many flowers are coming into greater 
profusion of bloom now (mid-Feb.) 
especially in the more protected places, 
and only a few days ago discovered a 
veritable Garden of Eden nestled in 
the foothills of the Sierra Madre range. 
This garden was on a sloping hill- 
side with the home in back ground 
overlooking it. Bounded by long rows 
of blazing scarlet Mallows, were en- 
closed various shrublike plants, large 
beds of velvety pansies, trellises of 
Sweet Peas in such multiplicity of 
bloom that the vines were nearly hid- 
den. Beds of fragrant Hyacinths in 
various colors, Irises reflecting their 
swordlike leaves in small artificial 
lakes. There were tufts of Violas, 
their cool refreshing beauty a pleasing 
change. Long border beds of Ver- 
benas and Petunias and — quite sud- 
denly I came upon them— a bed of 
Gladioli. So close to the open iron 
fence were they that I reached through 
and touched them. Those Gladioli 
were about a foot in height and seemed 
to be growing thriftily. I was sure 
they had remained in the ground from 
last year because at the sides were 
Perhaps this homelike feeling has come 
to me because we have made beautiful 
Alhambra our headquarters, and there 
are friends from our Ohio home town 
here in our apartment home, and also 
resident in homes near by, and Ohio 
companionship and California climate 
form a most congenial combination. 
Alhambra, eight miles east of Los 
Angeles and three miles from Pasadena, 
well connected with electric and steam 
cars and wonderful boulevards, is 
spoken of as The Gateway to the San 
Gabriel Valley, and my window pre- 
sents a view of majestic mountains, 
and valley dotted with homes sur- 
rounded with orchards laden with 
fragrant blossoms and golden fruits. 
The much needed rains have brought 
kaleidoscopic changes of early spring- 
time. Less than a week ago a nearby 
row of Calla Lilies resembled dead 
plantain leaves more than anything 
else, today the blooms are popping 
open. 
With the view of mountains comes 
the desire to gain their dizzy heights 
and the picture shows two daring girls 
flirting with death as they gather 
flowering branches of the Manzaneta 
on the side of Mt. Lowe, where a slip 
of the foot or loss of balance would 
precipitate them to the depths of the 
growths, and the Manzanetas in bloom 
are very attractive. This wood grows 
extremely crooked, and we have been 
told that a wealthy easterner has made 
a standing offer of $2000 for a perfectly 
straight piece measuring five feet in 
length. The bark is a deep mahogany 
color. 
In the yard of “Ye Alpine Tavern” 
plumy-tailed gray squirrels were play- 
ing tag, and venturing near I discov- 
ered a bed of Irises seemingly as much 
at home as in my Ohio garden. 
Upon the return of the men of our 
party who had made the extra and 
somewhat perilous climb of eleven 
hundred feet in order to go “ over the 
top,” we had dinner at the “Tavern,” 
lingering a little to make the return 
trip at night for a view of the illumi- 
nation of the valley. A little way 
above the top of the Great Incline we 
spent a brief half hour at the Mt. 
Lowe observatory, listening to a short 
lecture, and were permitted a peep at 
Jupiter and her four moons through 
the great telescope. Previous to this 
stop our five miles through winding 
slopes, around ridges and across can- 
yons, had been made mostly with the 
car lighted, and unable to see outside 
distinctly, we fell to chatting and visit- 
ing and the younger element, boys and 
[ Continued on page 55 .] 
Trunk of climbing Rose in California. 
