A mighty waste of mist the valley fills,
A solemn sea! whose billows wide around
Stand motionless, to awful silence bound:
Pines, on the coast, through mist their tops uprear
That like to leaning masts of stranded ships appear.
In spring or summer just before sunrise it is very beautiful to see how these banks of vapor are lifted by the stirring airs of the dawn, how the draperies of mist draw apart and open up vistas of the trees, which drip with moisture, and are presently illumined by the broad shafts of sunlight that pour down upon them.
Lest it be thought that only the dense coniferous forests possess superior qualities, I desire to put in a plea for the open ones also.
Courtesy of the Bureau of Forestry