meo
profile--ivory-white upon a red-brown background.

Angela was sitting under the generous shade of the Grizzly Giant. Nick lay
resting on his elbow, just near enough to touch with his shoulder the
soles of her small, dusty shoes, crossed one over the other.

After all, it was not as easy to write as Angela had expected, with Nick
lying silent, and so close to her that it seemed, if she should listen,
she might hear his thoughts, like the ticking of a watch under a pillow.

She began by noting down commonplace things, as though by way of sorting
out her impressions.

"We left Kate this morning at Wawona. What dear people keep that hotel! In
Europe one never thinks about hotel-keepers. If everything is right, one
simply takes them for granted, as one breathes good air. It's different
here in the West of America. They--these charming, kind people--lent us
their own 'buckboard'--a glorified one; and their two horses, Cash and
Credit, who are famous. Darling animals they are, and understand every
word that's said to them. When they die, generations of California horses
ought to be named Cash and Credit to preserve their memory.

"We started early, just after the morning had been born, so as to miss
nothing. And first of all we had a quick rush through the flowery valley
of Wawona--a kind of prelude to the music of the great redwoods. And I
think it helped me to appreciate and understand them. We saw Stellar Lake,
named by inspiration, for it looks a blue sky half full of stars; and I
had my first sight of a fish hatchery. I'd no notion it could be so
exciting to watch the career of trout from the egg stage up to rainbow
maturity. Never shall I forget grabbing a handful of tiny wriggling fish
out of the trough of water where they lived, and holding them in the
hollow of my palm for an instant! They looked like big silver commas, and
interrogation points, oh, but punctuations of all kinds; and they felt
like iced popcorn. I don't think I shall ever eat trout again. It would be
so treacherous, now that I seem to have known the creatures from the
cradle to the grave.

"But about the Big Trees, which at this present moment are to me the most
important things on earth. I've seen a good deal of the earth, but nothing
so good, nothing so glorious. No wonder Mr. Hilliard says, 'Why need
people build churches in this part of the world, when they have the
redwood cathedral built by God, full of the sound of His organ music?'