John Muir


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64 Trunk [colorless] How [solemn] the [hush] the [rest]—not a [squirrel] noted now, every one at [home] motionless, all [their] lightning-[filled] limbs as they lie sleeping in a [rolled] ball are [wrapt] about with their tails for warmth, The dew is falling the violets & daisies are drinking [the dew]. Not a breath stirs the [innumerable] [plumes] of fir; * go out in this latest [twilight] on the mead [meadow] & see [even] the [airy] [panicles] of agrostis are [scarce] [moving]. Yet the heart of nature is still beating [still] Now the grand architecture of the forest is seen in all its grandeur, in the day light [we] [see] too much, but all is [massed] now, & the [spires] & [towers] shoot up to the gray sky along the meadow, wh [which] like a simple wall, a [ ] [street]

Every tree receiving [grace] not to endure [bear] but to [empower] 65 Of trees each spire a mass of simple black How palpable now their studied arrangement strikes the dullest eye. For a while not a sound [then] the creak of myriad [ ] fill the night with soothing slumberous. All [one] [ ] [tone] Yet above the general [level] of sound a few voices are heard tiny [musical] creaking [infinitely] sweet & like ripples on a woodland lake? Distinct cricketlike creaks & chirps. The woodpecker latest at work not like hasty workman stopped before his work done, but heedless as welcoming the rest. Beetles drone & [boom], then all still. But [ ] on [easy] whirls, [croaking] in [bags] & deep pools of air in the trees.

Date Original



Original journal dimensions: 9.5 x 16 cm.

Resource Identifier



Holt-Atherton Special Collections, University of the Pacific Library

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John Muir, journals, drawings, writings, travel, journaling, naturalist