Yosemite and the Range of Light [antikvár]

KPPfM't?i"-'-I 1 "5:1 'I'' 'r'',',',' Ml'";-;'i-u triiv» ¦'W-.,' Ill ' ¦ i'' ' V I I'M'''¦) I -'i') Sii '¦r/"''!'/: I hA'' I'll'' v'.v'i;' : ''M /M^ ill' Foreword SiNCEjUNEi9i6the Sierra has dominated my mind, art and spirit. It is quite impossible to explain in words this almost symbiotic relationship. My photographs must serve as the equivalents of my experiences, and 1 hope they may help others to express their own experiences in whatever medium they choose. All art is a vision penetrating the illusions of reality, and photography is one form of this vision and revelation. The Sierra Nevada, so aptly called the "Range of Light" by John Muir, rises as a great wave of stone for four hundred miles between the arid wastes of the Great Basin and the verdant Central Valley of California. In the billowing western slopes are many valleys and canyons, carved first by the forces of water and then configured by great rivers of ice during several glacial ages. The grinding ice moved from the summits down to elevations of two to four thousand feet. The geologic history of the Sierra is ancient and complex, and scientists are still pondering the uplifts, the faults and the patterns of erosion of this vast, tilted block of the earth's surface. Those who have seen the great uplifts of the Himalayas, the Andes, the Alps and the Alaskan ranges may not think of the Sierra Nevada as mountams. They have neither formidable rivers of ice nor skies cut with forbidding towers of rock. I think of the Sierra as sculptures in stone, rather delicate and gentle, yet not small! The canyons reach seven thousand feet in depth, and the eastern face of the range rises more than ten thousand feet above the Owens Valley. The juxtaposition of rock, glacial lakes, meadows, forests and streams is extraordinary. It is the detail of the Sierra that captures the