The sun was going down on the Carquinez Woods. The few shafts of sunlight that had pierced their pillared gloom were lost in unfathomable depths, or splintered their ineffectual lances on the enormous trunks of the redwoods. For a time the dull red of their vast columns, and the dull red of their cast-off bark which matted the echoless aisles, still seemed to hold a faint glow of the dying day. But even this soon passed. Light and color fled upwards. The dark interlaced treetops, that had all day made an impenetrable shade, broke into fire here and there; their lost spires glittered, faded,…mehr
The sun was going down on the Carquinez Woods. The few shafts of sunlight that had pierced their pillared gloom were lost in unfathomable depths, or splintered their ineffectual lances on the enormous trunks of the redwoods. For a time the dull red of their vast columns, and the dull red of their cast-off bark which matted the echoless aisles, still seemed to hold a faint glow of the dying day. But even this soon passed. Light and color fled upwards. The dark interlaced treetops, that had all day made an impenetrable shade, broke into fire here and there; their lost spires glittered, faded, and went utterly out. A weird twilight that did not come from the outer world, but seemed born of the wood itself, slowly filled and possessed the aisles. The straight, tall, colossal trunks rose dimly like columns of upward smoke. The few fallen trees stretched their huge length into obscurity, and seemed to lie on shadowy trestles. The strange breath that filled these mysterious vaults had neither coldness nor moisture; a dry, fragrant dust arose from the noiseless foot that trod their bark-strewn floor; the aisles might have been tombs, the fallen trees enormous mummies; the silence the solitude of a forgotten past.
Bret Harte was a well-known poet and author from the United States who made significant literary achievements in the American West during the Gold Rush era. Harte moved to California in 1854, after moving to Albany, New York, on August 25, 1836, and immersed himself in the vibrant social and cultural environment of the Gold Rush. Harte started writing as an editor, journalist, and teacher. He rose to national notoriety when he took over as editor of "The Overland Monthly," a literary journal located in San Francisco, in 1868. His short stories-"The Luck of Roaring Camp" and "The Outcasts of Poker Flat," in particular-were widely praised for their realistic depictions of frontier life and their exploration of morality, humanity, and the effects of unexpected wealth. Harte eventually came under fire for departing from the frontier genre, even though his early writings frequently romanticized the Wild West. His impact persisted despite controversy, and he left a lasting impression on American literature.
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