THE DANDELION-SEED FLYING MACHINE
The dandelion on the left shows how the seeds are kept in the "hangar" at night and on rainy days, shut up tight to prevent them from getting wet with rain or dew and so made unfit for flying.
Muir especially mentions the sugar-pines as interpreting that storm to him. They seemed to be roused by the wildest bursts of the wind music to a "passionate exhilaration," as if saying "Oh, what a glorious day this is!"
This was the picture part of it—the glorious moving-picture show. Now listen to some of the music:
"The sounds of the storm corresponded gloriously with the wild exuberance of light and motion. The profound bass of the naked branches and boles booming like waterfalls, the quick, tense vibrations of the pine-needles, now rising to a shrill, whistling hiss, now falling to a silky murmur. The rustling of laurel groves in the dells, and the keen metallic click of leaf on leaf—all this was heard in easy analysis when the attention was calmly bent.
"Even when the grand anthem had swelled to its highest pitch I could distinctly hear the varying tones of individual trees—spruce, fir, pine, and oak—and even the infinitely gentle rustle of the withered grasses at my feet."
When the winds began to fall and the sky to clear, Muir climbed down and made his way back home.
"The storm tones died away, and turning toward the east I beheld the countless hosts of the forests hushed and tranquil, towering above one another on the slopes of the hills like a devout audience. The setting sun filled them with amber light, and seemed to say while they listened:
"'My peace I give unto you.'"
HIDE AND SEEK IN THE LIBRARY