The day was very hot, and the silence of high noon lay close and thick between the steep slopes of the canyons like an invisible, muffling fluid.

At intervals the drone of an insect bored the air and trailed slowly to silence again.

Everywhere were pungent, aromatic smells.
The vast, moveless heat seemed to distil countless odors from the brush--odors of warm sap, of pine needles, and of tar-weed, and above all the medicinal odor of witch hazel.

As far as one could look, uncounted multitudes of trees and manzanita bushes were quietly and motionlessly growing, growing, growing.

A tremendous, immeasurable Life pushed steadily heavenward without a sound, without a motion.