Bird notes dropped like honey from fragrant shrubs and trees that
hid the singers. Squirrels with plumed tails, and chipmunks striped white,
gray, and brown, raced across the trail, or peered with the bright beads
they had for eyes from piles of dead wood that lay gray as skeletons among
the living green of the mountain forest. Far below, Silver Apron Fall
splashed into the Emerald Pool and turned its green jewels to diamonds.
The near forests and faraway waters sang in the different voices the same
song other waters and forests had sung yesterday; but this song of the
High Sierra had wilder notes, above and beyond all knowledge of fleeting
episodes such as human lives and civilizations. For the song had not
changed since the world was young. The air was not mere air, but seemingly
a conscious mingling of Divine Ether with the atmosphere. Though they
ascended always, it was as if they rode through the depths of a crystal
sea, unstirred by their presence, a sea as deep and as high as heaven, a
blue that took the solidity of turquoise between tree-trunks and paled to
opaline fire across the canon. Angela knew that never again, after these
spacious days, could she go back to her old self. She felt that she had
mounted one step higher on the stage of development, and gained an ampler
view.
Pages:
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353