In so wild and so beautiful a region your first day will be spent, every sight and sound novel and inspiring, and leading you far from yourself. - John Muir

We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us. Our flesh-and-bone tabernacle seems transparent as glass to the beauty about us, as if truly an inseparable part of it, thrilling with the air and trees, streams and rocks, in the waves of the sun, — a part of all nature, neither old nor young, sick nor well, but immortal.

Anche oggi tempo splendido, una di quelle gloriose giornate della Sierra in cui ci si sente come dissolti, assorbiti, spinti innanzi pulsanti, non si sa dove. La vita non pare né lunga né breve, non ci si preoccupa di risparmiare tempo o di affrettarsi più di quanto facciano alberi e stelle. Questa è la vera libertà, un buon surrogato mortale dell'immortalità.

A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings, while incense is ever flowing from the balsam bells and leaves. No wonder the hills and groves were God's first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord himself.