Yosemite National Park: the trees grew far above the extent of my upward gaze, touching the clouds with leafy fingers, delicate raindrops falling slowly from their outstretched branches onto my upturned cheeks. Warm morning sunlight flowed from the fiery eye peeking over the mountaintop, waking the forest. The rays of light shone through each crystalline raindrop as it fell, fire dancing in the mist. In the distance, birds happily announced the dawn of a new day with a triumphant song, filling the fresh mountain air with a soft and gentle ambience. Rainclouds of the purest natural silver unfurled across a liquid golden sky, a misty wind causing the trees to tremble, their leaves falling, spilling their nighttime dewdrops onto the rocks far below.
The clouds moved with a fluid grace across the outspread sky, now a
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silvery-blue, looking over us as we embarked on our adventure. The sun wrapped us in its warm embrace and lifted our spirits, though an icy rain now fell over the forest. We followed a stream of gray waters for a long while, which led us through dense, sleepy woods. I broke off from the group to explore on my own the wonders hidden deeper within the lush landscape. Alone, I made my way up a stony cliff, slick under the afternoon drizzle. The danger was well worth the reward as my gaze rested over the forest; it was a breathtaking view. Once again following alongside the ever-growing river, the echoes of its sweet, bubbly song often our only guide through the dense foliage which hid its form from our sight, our journey brought us to a rocky chasm filled with the ever-passionate roar of rushing water far below.
The cliffs were connected with a network of fallen trees, offering their services as bridges to the risk takers willing to brave the apprehension of falling, while flat, forested paths on either side assured safe passage for the less adventurous. I, alone, took to the challenge offered by the cliffs and the trees, and, carefully making my way one step at a time, my sense of adventure soaring as I balanced myself across the slick, narrow trees like a gymnast, each footstep creaking, creating sound both so terrible and wondrous which reverberated across the open air and cold stone faces of the chasm. Indeed, it was a challenge, but one I took gladly. And what a sight I beheld as a reward! I looked around from my perch atop a boulder, watching in awe the majesty of my own secret waterfall, hidden from the others. How the sunlight shone through the trees and danced upon the
water! As the air grew chilled and the rain turned icy, we made our way back to camp. Along the way, we spotted a large deer, a large buck unique in that he possessed only one antler, timidly moving through the lush foliage. He moved with a silent grace through the trees. We gazed in wonder at the mysterious creature, before he sensed us and darted off. A moment passed, and we quickly forgot the buck as we stared in awe at the young black bear wandering across a clearing only a few dozen yards away. I risked getting a bit closer to marvel at the beast as he marched proudly across the vegetation, confidant in that nothing in the world could challenge him, for he was sovereign of the woodland. We returned to camp. As the sun set sleepily over the mountains, I was reminded of all that had happened that day. I breathed in the fresh mountain air and lazily gazed over the darkened ruby horizon. I was away from the life I had long grown used to; in Yosemite, every hour was a new journey. Every moment was a new memory to hold on to, fondly, forever. As I drifted off to sleep, my mind was filled with wonder. What adventures would be in store for us tomorrow?
" National Parks Service. U.S. Department of the Interior, 26 Feb. 2014. Web. 14 Mar. 2014. “Yosemite National Park.”
My life so far has been like a good hiking path. A path that is winding and twisting and encompassed with plenty of beauty. A path that is lined with trees like angels protecting you from the mysteries in the deep forest and that keep you rooted on the path you are destine to take. One that is filled with deep troughs and the most beautiful peaks you could ever image. Sometimes the path is rocky and hurts the soles of your feet until they crack and bleed, but other times it’s covered with a soft green moss that lifts your steps and revives your spirits. Through the last 17 years of my life, I have traveled that path and endured every step. I have gone into the dark abyss of the trough and have found in it the most precious grace of light. As I have gotten older I have come to recognize that the scary and shaky steps of my path have indeed been “fearsome blessings” (Buechner, 92).
Yosemite and its history, young to old the story of an area of land that is doomed to be mined, forcibly stripped naked of its natural resources. In 1864 Yosemite land grant was signed into act by president Abraham Lincoln, the first area of land set aside for preservation and protection. Yosemite being a very important historical plot of land, some time ago president Theodore Roosevelt visited the park managing to disappear from the secret service with John Muir. Through the years the contrast of ideas between the industrialists and the preservationists have clashed, Yosemite’s history both interesting and mysterious but more importantly inevitable .
Yosemite National Park, is a beautiful piece of nature it is a 195 mile nature getaway from the urban life that is lived San Francisco, CA and 315 miles away from the fast pace and overwhelming life that is lived in Los Angeles CA. This place is like no other in the beauty of its nature. The park is “747,956 acres, and is the home to hundreds of wildlife species and thousands of Yosemite plants” (U.S. Nat. Park Service). Yosemite is known for so many beautiful features, from its granite cliffs, waterfalls, clear streams, giant sequoia groves and biological diversity. And also for its two rivers which are the Tuolumne and Merced rivers. These rivers begin in the park and flow as far as west to the Central Valley.
Dani and I stand in the sun waiting for the “men” to catch up. The view was worth Quill’s whining and navigating through the snow. The breeze catches in the bright green and gold of new Aspen leaves whispering around the lake. The Pine trees scent the air and bask in the sun to steal its warmth from the forest below. The trees are a dark canopy along our path permitting only a few patches of the raised finely mulched trail to a beam or two of sun. Framed like a photo three pencil lead gray peaks rise above a lower sweeping curve of pines. They look close enough to walk over the ridge and touch them. Boulders precariously cling to the side of the mountains. The perfect deep blue early summer sky is the perfect backdrop.
"Yosemite Flora (Plants & Flowers)." Yosemite Trees, Plants & Flowers. N.p., n.d. Web. 07 Oct. 2013. .
I rush toward the mechanical clanking and rattling of the ski lift and collapse into the chair. Exhausted, I use this time to restore my energy. I begin to form the image of the steep route that I plan to attempt on my next run. Its nearly vertical face, large jagged rocks, and rough terrain send shivers down my spine and adrenaline into my veins. I painfully recall my previous attempt, where I did not perform the necessary technique in order to survive the run without a crash. This time,
I prepared myself for the upcoming adventurous day. I set out along a less-traveled path through the woods leading to the shore. I could hear every rustle of the newly fallen leaves covering the ground. The brown ground signaled the changing of seasons and nature's way of preparing for the long winter ahead. Soon these leaves would be covered with a thick layer of snow. The leaves still clinging to the trees above displayed a brilliant array of color, simultaneously showing the differences of each and the beauty of the entire forest.
Hawaii Volcanoes National Park The Hawaii Volcanoes National Park is about 30 miles southwest of Hilo. It is on the big island of Hawaii. This park is the home of Kilauea Volcano. Kilauea is one of the most active volcanoes on Earth.
Located in the popular Yosemite National Park, Yosemite Falls is the tallest waterfall in California. Every year, mother nature’s breathtaking beauty attracts millions of people from around the world. People hike for three long and fatiguing hours in anticipation of witnessing forceful water rushing down the steep mountain from 2,425 feet above. Last summer, my family and I backpacked through the Yosemite Falls Trail and I came to learn what a truly exhausting experience it is.
My sweat soaked shirt was clinging to my throbbing sunburn, and the salty droplets scalded my tender skin. “I need this water,” I reminded myself when my head started to fill with terrifying thoughts of me passing out on this ledge. I had never been so relieved to see this glistening, blissful water. As inviting as the water looked, the heat wasn't the only thing making my head spin anymore. Not only was the drop a horrifying thought, but I could see the rocks through the surface of the water and couldn't push aside the repeating notion of my body bouncing off them when I hit the bottom. I needed to make the decision to jump, and fast. Standing at the top of the cliff, it was as if I could reach out and poke the searing sun. Sweat dripped from my forehead, down my nose, and on its way to my dry, cracked lips which I licked to find a salty droplet. My shirt, soaked with perspiration, was now on the ground as I debated my
A blast of adrenaline charges throughout my body as I experience the initial drop. My body's weight shifts mechanically, cutting the snow in a practiced rhythm. The trail curves abruptly and I advance toward a shaded region of the mountain. Suddenly, my legs chatter violently, scraping against the concealed ice patches that pepper the trail. After overcompensating from a nearly disastrous slip, balance fails and my knees buckle helplessly. In a storm of powder snow and ski equipment, body parts collide with nature. My left hand plows forcefully into ice, cracking painfully at the wrist. For an eternity of 30 seconds, my body somersaults downward, moguls of ice toy with my head and further agonize my broken wrist. Ultimately veering into underbrush and pine trees, my cheeks burn, my broken wrist surging with pain. Standing up confused, I attempt climbing the mountain but lose another 20 feet to the force of gravity.
I almost fell off a cliff on the side of a mountain. I was in Pitkin, Colorado, on a camping trip during the summer of 2009. The trees were green, the air was fresh so were the lakes, rivers, and ponds were stocked with fish and wildlife was everywhere. Usually, on these camping trips, I would be accompanied by a large number of people. However, this time, it was just my parents, my three brothers, and my two sisters. I was almost 12 years old at the time and having three older brothers made me very competitive. Naturally, when my family decided to climb one of the mountain’s which were around us, I wanted to be the first one to reach its peak.
I used to go there to be alone or to dream with my eyes open admiring the blue sky or the clouds. I liked to go there to lay down on the grass, listen to the wind, kiss the flowers and watch the leaves moving. It was hard to go up the hill to get there, but I wanted to see everyday my seven trees, to see how the color of the leaves changed and to feel the softness of the grass.
For those who like winter sports like skiing and snowboarding, we have just the perfect place- the remote yet very popular mountain resort called Balea Lake.