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My First Summer in the Sierra

Om My First Summer in the Sierra

My First Summer in the Sierra is a natural history classis and a autobiographical sketch by John Muir that describes his adventures in the Sierra Mountains and the wildlife found there. It contains this passage: "In the great Central Valley of California there are only two seasons--spring and summer. The spring begins with the first rainstorm, which usually falls in November. In a few months the wonderful flowery vegetation is in full bloom, and by the end of May it is dead and dry and crisp, as if every plant had been roasted in an oven. Then the lolling, panting flocks and herds are driven to the high, cool, green pastures of the Sierra. I was longing for the mountains about this time, but money was scarce and I couldn't see how a bread supply was to be kept up. While I was anxiously brooding on the bread problem, so troublesome to wanderers, and trying to believe that I might learn to live like the wild animals, gleaning nourishment here and there from seeds, berries, etc., sauntering and climbing in joyful independence of money or baggage, Mr. Delaney, a sheep-owner, for whom I had worked a few weeks, called on me, and offered to engage me to go with his shepherd and flock to the headwaters of the Merced and Tuolumne rivers--the very region I had most in mind."

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  • Språk:
  • Engelska
  • ISBN:
  • 9781006324819
  • Format:
  • Häftad
  • Sidor:
  • 140
  • Utgiven:
  • 5. november 2021
  • Mått:
  • 229x152x8 mm.
  • Vikt:
  • 195 g.
  Fri leverans
Leveranstid: 2-4 veckor
Förväntad leverans: 20. december 2024
Förlängd ångerrätt till 31. januari 2025

Beskrivning av My First Summer in the Sierra

My First Summer in the Sierra is a natural history classis and a autobiographical sketch by John Muir that describes his adventures in the Sierra Mountains and the wildlife found there. It contains this passage:
"In the great Central Valley of California there are only two seasons--spring and summer. The spring begins with the first rainstorm, which usually falls in November. In a few months the wonderful flowery vegetation is in full bloom, and by the end of May it is dead and dry and crisp, as if every plant had been roasted in an oven.
Then the lolling, panting flocks and herds are driven to the high, cool, green pastures of the Sierra. I was longing for the mountains about this time, but money was scarce and I couldn't see how a bread supply was to be kept up. While I was anxiously brooding on the bread problem, so troublesome to wanderers, and trying to believe that I might learn to live like the wild animals, gleaning nourishment here and there from seeds, berries, etc., sauntering and climbing in joyful independence of money or baggage, Mr. Delaney, a sheep-owner, for whom I had worked a few weeks, called on me, and offered to engage me to go with his shepherd and flock to the headwaters of the Merced and Tuolumne rivers--the very region I had most in mind."

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