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Steep Trails-Part34_John Muir(1838-1914)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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As yet, few of the promontories or throng of mountain buildings in the

canyon are named. Nor among such exuberance of forms are names



thought of by the bewildered, hurriedtourist. He would be as likely

to think of names for waves in a storm. The Eastern and Western



Cloisters, Hindu Amphitheater, Cape Royal, Powell's Plateau, Grand

View Point, Point Sublime, Bissell and Moran Points, the Temple of



Set, Vishnu's Temple, Shiva's Temple, Twin Temples, Tower of Babel,

Hance's Column--these fairly good names given by Dutton, Holmes,



Moran, and others are scattered over a large stretch of the canyon

wilderness.



All the canyon rock-beds are lavishly painted, except a few neutral

bars and the granite notch at the bottom occupied by the river, which



makes but little sign. It is a vast wilderness of rocks in a sea of

light, colored and glowing like oak and maple woods in autumn, when



the sun-gold is richest. I have just said that it is impossible to

learn what the canyon is like from descriptions and pictures.



Powell's and Dutton's descriptions present magnificent views not only

of the canyon but of all the grand region round about it; and Holmes's



drawings, accompanying Dutton's report, are wonderfully good. Surely

faithful and loving skill can go no farther in putting the



multitudinous decorated forms on paper. But the COLORS, the living

rejoicing COLORS, chanting morning and evening in chorus to heaven!



Whose brush or pencil, however lovingly inspired, can give us these?

And if paint is of no effect, what hope lies in pen-work? Only this:



some may be incited by it to go and see for themselves.

No other range of mountainous rock-work of anything like the same



extent have I seen that is so strangely, boldly, lavishly colored.

The famous Yellowstone Canyon below the falls comes to mind; but,



wonderful as it is, and well deserved as is its fame, compared with

this it is only a bright rainbowribbon at the roots of the pines.



Each of the series of level, continuous beds of carboniferous rocks of

the canyon has, as we have seen, its own characteristic color. The



summit limestone beds are pale yellow; next below these are the

beautiful rose-colored cross-bedded sandstones; next there are a



thousand feet of brilliant red sandstones; and below these the red

wall limestones, over two thousand feet thick, rich massy red, the



greatest and most influential of the series, and forming the main

color-fountain. Between these are many neutral-tinted beds. The



prevailing colors are wonderfully deep and clear, changing and

blending with varying intensity from hour to hour, day to day, season



to season; throbbing, wavering, glowing, responding to every passing

cloud or storm, a world of color in itself, now burning in separate



rainbow bars streaked and blotched with shade, now glowing in one

smooth, all-pervading etherealradiance like the alpenglow, uniting



the rocky world with the heavens.

The dawn, as in all the pure, dry desert country is ineffably



beautiful; and when the first level sunbeams sting the domes and

spires, with what a burst of power the big, wild days begin! The dead



and the living, rocks and hears alike, awake and sing the new-old song

of creation. All the massy headlands and salient angles of the walls,



and the multitudinous temples and palaces, seem to catch the light at

once, and cast thick black shadows athwart hollow and gorge, bringing



out details as well as the main massive features of the architecture;

while all the rocks, as if wild with life, throb and quiver and glow



in the glorious sunburst, rejoicing. Every rock temple then becomes a

temple of music; every spire and pinnacle an angel of light and song,



shouting color hallelujahs.

As the day draws to a close, shadows, wondrous, black, and thick, like



those of the morning, fill up the wall hollows, while the glowing

rocks, their rough angles burned off, seem soft and hot to the heart



as they stand submerged in purple haze, which now fills the canyon




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