Photograph by A. C. Pillsbury
MERCED CANYON
The approach to the Valley
Photograph by A. C. Pillsbury
MIRROR LAKE
As seen in the early morning
Then we catch a glimpse of Elephant Rock, of Cathedral Spires, of the delicate lacery of Bridal Veil Falls, and, opposite, the massive bulk of El Capitan. Soon the slender, swanlike neck of Yosemite Falls appears, and we roll through Camp Awahnee and out into the wide, level vale where Yosemite Village rests. Here we draw a long breath, and a sense of peace and contentment takes possession of us—a feeling of complete isolation from the world of care and trouble. There is something so intimate and friendly—so “homey”—about the wide, green meadow that stretches before us from the banks of the fast flowing Merced to the wood at the foot of Yosemite Falls. Around this level mead the camps cluster; Yosemite, El Capitan, and Lost Arrow camps close to the base of the falls, quiet Camp Awahnee by the roadside across the river, and busy Camp Curry a mile east of the village and just below Glacier Point.