THE OPEN LETTER
Photograph by A. C. Pillsbury
THE LAUGHING WATERS OF HAPPY ISLES
In some scenery there is an element of awe—a grimness that makes us shudder. The charm of the Yosemite is that, with all its scenic splendor it is so serenely beautiful, so restful in character, and so endearing. There is no lack of majesty. Lofty summits surround us—some of them stern in aspect. El Capitan is a vast, beetling cliff, the Three Brothers are grim granite companions, and the peak of Cloud’s Rest is remote and austere. But, down in the valley, all is gentle and lovely.
I have visited the valley more than once, and I know its spell. Its soothing influence dulls the edge of decision. However energetic and purposeful we may be on arrival, we find, after a few days, that we have, quite unconsciously, eaten of the lotus of forgetfulness. Plans for various strenuous activities are modified; things that at first seemed urgent are postponed; and the day of departure drops into the list of life’s little uncertainties. Events take their own course; we yield to the current. Yesterday we followed the mountain trail, and we were full of the stir and thrill of it. Today we find other and quieter joys. So we let the climbers now call us indolent. We let them take to the summits while we hold to the valley. We are content. The flowers that offer themselves at our feet are as fair as those that they find on the heights. The air about us is soft and fragrant, and “sweet is the whisper of the pine trees by the river.” Our hearts are in unison with the pastoral poet, and we ask for nothing better today than to rest here and dream in the Happy Isles.
The valley is undergoing changes and improvements. The conditions there have always been very simple. Within recent years the government, realizing that the Yosemite was a wonderful natural playground, has done much to develop it. If a visitor of former years should go to the Yosemite today, he would rub his eyes and exclaim at the changes. He would find the old Sentinel Hotel and cottages superseded by the luxurious new hotel, and the village largely transplanted to the other side of the Merced. In place of the old-fashioned stages, he would find the ever-present auto-car. He would find the Glacier Point Hotel renewed and enlarged, and many improvements in the valley camps. He would find well-equipped lodges and chalets scattered through the Park for the comfort of those who take the long, arduous trails. The Yosemite is now an all-year-round resort, where winter as well as summer sport may be enjoyed. Uncle Sam’s invitation is: “Come to your pleasure Park, forget your cares for a while, and rest and play.”
