Title:
Letter from [John Muir] to Sarah [Muir Galloway], 1871 Apr 5.
Creator:
[John Muir]
Publisher:
University of the Pacific Library Holt-Atherton Special Collections. Please contact this institution directly to obtain copies
of the images or permission to publish or use them beyond educational purposes.
Contributor:
Sarah [Muir Galloway]
Date:
1871 Apr 5
2008
Type:
Text
Format:
Image/jpeg2000
Identifier:
muir02_0424-md-1
Source:
Original letter dimensions: 33 x 21.5 cm.
Language:
eng
Coverage:
Yosemite Valley
Rights:
Copyrighted
The unpublished works of John Muir are copyrighted by the Muir-Hanna Trust. To purchase copies of images and/or obtain permission
to publish or exhibit them, see
http://library.pacific.edu/ha/forms
Muir-Hanna Trust
1984
Transcription:
Original letter in possession of Sarah Muir Galloway In the sawmill, Yosemite Valley, April 5th, l871. Dear Sister Sarah:
This is one of the most surpassingly glorious of Yosemite days, and I have suddenly thought to write you. We have rain and
storm. The vast column of the upper Yosem ite falls is swaying with wonderful ever-changing forms of beauty, and all our mountain
walls are wreathed in splendid clouds. In some places a strip of muffy white cloud reaches almost from the bottom of the wall
to the top, and just across the meadow the summit of a pine-crested mountain is peering above the clouds like an island in
the sky thus: sketch It is hard to write here, as the mill jars so much by the stroke of the saw, and rain drips from the
roof, and I have to set the log every few minutes. I am operating this same mill that I made last winter. I like the piney
fragrance of the fresh-sawn boards, and I am in constant view of the grandest of all the falls. I sleep in the mill for the
sake of hearing the murmuring hush of the water beneath me, and I have a small box-like home fastened beneath the gable of
the mill, looking westward down the Valley, where I keep my notes, etc. People call it the hang-nest, because it seems unsupported,
thus sketch . Fortunately the only people that I dislike are afraid to enter it. The hole in the roof is to command a view
of the glorious South Dome, 5000ft. high. There is a corresponding skylight on the other side of the roof which commands a
full view of the upper Yosemite falls, and the window in the end has a view sweeping down the Valley among the pines and cedars
and silver firs. The window in the mill-roof to the right is above my bed, and I have to look at the stars on calm nights.
Two evenings ago I climbed the mountain to the foot of the upper Yosemite falls, carrying a piece of bread and a pair of blankets
so that I could spend the night on the rock and enjoy the glorious waters, but I got drenched and had to go home, reaching
the house at two o'clock in the morning. My wetting was received in a way that I scarcely care to tell. The adventure nearly
cost all. I mean to go tomorrow night, but I will not venture behind the column again. Here are the outlines of a grand old
pine and gnarly mossy oak that stand a few steps from the mill. You liked the flowers. Well, I will get you a violet from
the side of the mill-race, as I go up to shut off the water. Goodnight, with a brother's warmest love. Sketch John Muir