Every civilization has its mythical place in the clouds. Part retreat, part heaven. High above. Reserved for achieving higher states of consciousness. For San Franciscans, that place above is Yosemite.
Lush valley tucked into a garden of granite and waterfalls. Yosemite appears out of a long climb upwards on Highway 120 like a way station to the next life. A rugged Eden with flowing fresh water and abundant wildlife, the valley is ringed by gods set in stone. El Capitan up front. Sentinel Dome. Beautiful Half Dome in the east. Cathedral Rocks, Glacier Point, North Dome and the Three Brothers round out the panoply.
And a river runs through it - feeding the valley’s life and amplifying the moods of the weather and the seasons.
This valley in the clouds is a stadium of human passions for three seasons. Only winter brings a velvety hush and the whispers of the ages. If you want to experience heaven where it touches earth, make a winter pilgrimage. Snow on the ground, quiet in your heart. And the short days and cold air calm the spirit so you can hear the heartbeat of a place that vibrates from time out of mind.