The Mountains of California
The mountains are calling, and I must go; And I will work on while I can, Studying the rocks and trees, the skies, Ot this ways and that, Tracking the sun’s eternal arc.
The forests are my first love, The secret treasures I shall find, Among the thickets and the crags, In every wildflower blooming, And every brook cascading down.
Ah! The joy of self-discovery, By nature’s hand fashioned anew, With every step, freedom beckons, And there’s magic in the air, While the mountains whisper to my soul.
- John Muir