The Range of Lights

John Muir often called the Sierra Nevadas the "Range of Lights" because of how inspired he felt by the place, and by how the sun, at any time of day, would reflect off the granite in such lovely ways.

Looking north from California 41 in Yosemite National Park.  The bare trees on the ridge are left over from a forest fire that happened in the last decade, and the area to the right of this image was completely burned out.

The Sierras do feel different from the rest of California.  I have yet to make it to the southern Cascades around Mt. Shasta, which both Muir and Roosevelt said have no equal in terms of striking beauty, but something about the pines and firs rising from the granite made the mountains feel at once both exotic and familiar.  In any event, the rock sure was glowing.  That haze you see is not humidity, which I think does not exist in California anyway, but rather just an abundance of glow from every which way.

The scene you see above might have looked very different had it not been for the early conservation movement.  The trees would all be gone, the valley flooded, and the land strip-mined beyond recognition.  Thankfully, we instead have this beautiful view, the forest to actually protect water interests despite the absence of a reservoir, and a tourist industry to sustain the local economy well beyond what the meager production of gold would have meant.  The Sierras host many international travelers each year, often in greater number than domestic visitors.  Those who do come here often return home with stories of beauty and inspiration, perhaps not too far off from the tales once told generations ago about an unbroken land that served as the symbol and fitting setting of a growing nation still optimistic about a future by and for the people.