As soon as these rock avalanches fell the streams began
to sing new songs; for in many places thousands of
boulders were hurled into their channels, roughening
and half-damming them, compelling the waters to surge
and roar in rapids where before they glided smoothly.
Some of the streams were completely dammed; driftwood,
leaves, etc., gradually filling the interstices
between the boulders, thus giving rise to lakes and
level reaches; and these again, after being gradually
filled in, were changed to meadows, through which
the streams are now silently meandering; while at
the same time some of the taluses took the places
of old meadows and groves. Thus rough places were
made smooth, and smooth places rough. But, on
the whole, by what at first sight seemed pure confounded
confusion and ruin, the landscapes were enriched; for
gradually every talus was covered with groves and gardens,
and made a finely proportioned and ornamental base
for the cliffs. In this work of beauty, every
boulder is prepared and measured and put in its place
more thoughtfully than are the stones of temples.
If for a moment you are inclined to regard these taluses
as mere draggled, chaotic dumps, climb to the top
of one of them, and run down without any haggling,
puttering hesitation, boldly jumping from boulder
to boulder with even speed. You will then find
your feet playing a tune, and quickly discover the
music and poetry of these magnificent rock piles—a
fine lesson; and all Nature’s wildness tells
the same story—the shocks and outbursts
of earthquakes, volcanoes, geysers, roaring, thundering
waves and floods, the silent uprush of sap in plants,
storms of every sort—each and all are the
orderly beauty-making love-beats of Nature’s
heart.
The Trees of the Valley
The most influential of the Valley trees is the yellow
pine (Pinus ponderosa). It attains its noblest
dimensions on beds of water-washed, coarsely-stratified
moraine material, between the talus slopes and meadows,
dry on the surface, well-watered below and where not
too closely assembled in groves the branches reach
nearly to the ground, forming grand spires 200 to
220 feet in height. The largest that I have measured
is standing alone almost opposite the Sentinel Rock,
or a little to the westward of it. It is a little
over eight feet in diameter and about 220 feet high.
Climbing these grand trees, especially when they are
waving and singing in worship in wind-storms, is a
glorious experience. Ascending from the lowest
branch to the topmost is like stepping up stairs through
a blaze of white light, every needle thrilling and
shining as if with religious ecstasy.
