Thursday, April 12, 2007

In the Central Valley


Anonymous Anonymous said...

The long since drained wetlands has become the silenced unknown expanse of California. A generation of cumulative memory knows only of driving it's length in the 100 degree hot brown summer on their way to something more exciting. In other months I've seen cows standing on low hills in dense fog looking like bovine gosts walking the clouds or smelled 16 miles of flowering citrus or just stopped and talked to one of it's curious residents who offers me something if only wishes of a good day. And it will flood again someday.


9:08 PM  
Blogger Travelburro said...

Looking eastward from the summit of the Pacheco Pass one shining morning, a landscape was displayed that after all my wanderings still appears as the most beautiful I have ever beheld. At my feet lay the Great Central Valley of California, level and flowery, like a lake of pure sunshine, forty or fifty miles wide, five hundred miles long, one rich furred garden of yellow Compositae. And from the eastern boundary of this vast golden flower-bed rose the mighty Sierra, miles in height, and so gloriously colored and so radiant, it seemed not clothed in light, but wholly composed of it, like the wall of some celestial city.


8:01 AM  

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