m_topn picture Atlantic Monthly Sidebar  J A N U A R Y  1 9 1 1
My First Summer in the Sierra -- January  by John Muir  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 could
n't see how a bread-supply was to be kept up. While 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 w