by: Guildford Windley
On mountains high
Of granite walls
Sierra rises to the blues sky
In deep forest green miles upon miles of trees, mostly pines I think
Rivers run in twisted turns through ravines and canyons
Over boulders gleamed polished clean by the constant water stream
The rivers run to the sea
Here one-time long-ago gold was king- men sold their souls for the reddish-yellow gold
Camps and towns dotted the
The foothills and the mountains that climb from the central valley floor.
But that was then, now most of the mines are gone, but the history lives on.
Now foothills and mountains call tourists in need of forest rivers and lakes.
The old towns and village beckon back to a time, a time so long ago.
But now bring forth souls seeking escape from the stress of modern life.
Oh, how I love the clean fresh air
The blue azure skies
the big bright starry sky
A mountain high on a journey back in time
A time to lose oneself on the road to a new adventure in new places that bring forth lakes, rugged rivers, and mountains to climb.
Pan for gold, ride a mountain bike. Swim in a snow-fed mountain lake- oh so cold
Quaint old towns, rustic lodges, and inns.
Find your way to the gold country on route 49
The Sierras await you, so come back in time and lose yourself in the land of gold.
Guildford H Windley