The Sun Shines Not On Us But

Another Glorious Day, The Air As Delicious To The Lungs As Nectar To The Tongue.

Walk Away Quietly In Any Direction And Taste The Freedom Of The Mountaineer. Camp Out Among The Grasses And Gentians Of Glacial Meadows, In Craggy Garden Nooks Full Of Nature's Darlings.

Yosemite Park Is A Place Of Rest, A Refuge From The Roar And Dust And Weary, Nervous, Wasting Work Of The Lowlands, In Which One Gains The Advantages Of Both Solitude And Society.

Who Publishes The Sheet-music Of The Winds Or The Music Of Water Written In River-lines?

I Care To Live Only To Entice People To Look At Nature’s Loveliness.