The morning call., 1893-06-04
The Lighthouse.

How many among our readers of THE
CALL know that within a few hours ride
OF San Francisco is located the second
finest lighthouse in the world?
Not one in fifty, probably. but it is
fact. AND visit to the light would prove
OF interest TO any one who cared either for
scenery, science or humanity.
There are places more easy of access
than Point Reyes, but when you reach the
place you will feel fully repaid for the
trouble ii has been TO get there.
The wind will probably be blowing a
gale Gt generally is), but you will not
mind it as you stand looking far across the
water to where q dim hazy spot is seen,
which at night shows up brightly GIFTED
by the electric towers of the cities of the
Golden Gate.
You have probably left San Francisco
early in the morning, crossing the ferry
on the o'clock boat to Sausalto, from
which point you travel northward by the
narrow-gauge road. You leave the train,
after travelling two hours, at Point Reyes,
but it is some twentv-seven miles from the
station 10 the real Point Reyes, the spot
selected for the warning-light and signal.
IL the day is pleasant you will not re-
greet the distance. for it is over beautiful
country road, beneath stretches of low
arching trees. which wave their branches
close down beside your face as if Offering
you the incense which they have drawn
from summer air and stored in their
fragrant foliage for the refreshmeut of
weary wayfarers from distant cities who
scarce know that trees are green and
flowers sweet. far away from the dusty
streets and lanes of the dirty city.
Past level fields, lying green and fresh.
wet with morning dew, beyond which the
hills rise high against the glowing azure
sBy,~clOihed to their SUBMITS with thick
90 DtE of trees tossing their branches In
n0tie' emile breeze which scarcely reaches
sS5'.th TO the winding road over which you
BRIDE, eyes and MUD engrossed by the scene
before you. Here the hill is atire with
golden flame; the California poppy spread
ing a>carpet of purest gold over acre after
acre OF ,6eld; there a pale-bluP haze shows
you where the wild myrtle has covered
the hillside with its shrubby growth; wild
roses and pink blGssomiDg salmon berry
dis ute the ground on the next height,
while the lupin, purple or palest lavender.
cream, canary, lemon up to deepest orange,
grows in every nook and corner not already
occupied by some stronger, Tanker growing
plant
And under each and every variety of
shrub named above, creep the low-gro wing
flowers which seem hiding from view, so
closely do they hug :heir mother earth.
Violets, baby blue ewes, creamcups,
mock peas. and a hundred other tiny
blossoms cluster beneath the shelter of
the taller growing GIANTS covering the
ground with mauy-hued mantle.
And the fragrance in the air fills yon
with exquisite pleasure. Nature is by far
the most successful chemist Her per-
fumes are far superior to those distilled
by the most skilliul Of her children. She
has never taught even favOrte child the
secret of her blending fragrance. His
most successful effort is rank and coarse
beside the min gled scents which rise from
the trees and blossoms lining the winding
road over which you pass.
The road runs along beside Tomales Bay
Tor little distance. and the salt scent
from its tide adds to the elusive fragrance
IN the morning air.
The road for some miles is even, straight
and level. then it leaves the county road,
and you make up yOar mind to consider
able humping and pitching on the private
roads and byways over which the rest of
your trip must be made.
But good road or bad, level sand or
lumpy bog, the smooth sward scarce
marked by wheel traces or the deep sand
filled in by the sea winds which now be-
gin to whistle about your ears as if to
warn you thai Point Reyes is dangerous
place, the road winds along over hills and
no, not through valleys for there are
nOne-but up still other hills until you
see far away against the blue of the sum-
mer sky little spot Of white high up on
a steep gray bluff which yon are told, and
try to believe, is the place to which you
arc bound.
But soon you turn your back upon the
point and seem going directly away from
it. Another and another turn in the wind
ing road higher ard higher levels reached;
gate after gate opened, passed and closed,
and at last you come in sight OF the sea.
\ little farther and it is visible on both
sides, and you begin TO believe you are
nearing your destination.
brakes Bay, on your left, shines blue
and calm under the sun. now high in the
heavens, while the sound of the surf on
tne other side Of the way grows ever more
distinct.
Another gate and the last, for when YOU
pass through it you are on Government
land. Il is the lighthouse reservation.
but sun you see no houses. Half mile |
further sudden turn aud you are sitting
behind your motinnless horse at the verv
door OF the keepers house.
The keepers house, [ wrote, but you are
before the doors of three houses, occupied |
by the four keepers of the light.
The big, twn-storied, double house on
your right is the home Of the head keeper
and his family on one side. and of the
Signal Service man and one of the assist
ant light keepers on the other.
Up the flight of steps on the left you ga
10 reach the houses in which live the other
assistant keepers, one with his family of
wife and three boys. the other in solitary
bachelor state by himself.
These are pretty brown-painted, low
rooted cottages of four rooms each. well
Planned and comfortably arranged, each
for a small family.
The houses stand on almost the highest
point of land on The extreme END Of this
rocky pTom0ntory, and from this point
nothing is visible in one direction but a
wide spreading waste of water. On fine
day glimpse may be caught of the far dis
tant Farallones. but looking back over the
way by which you reached the point, softly
swelling into the SKY rises distant Mount
Helena, lis outline softened by the haze of
miles of summer air. until it is nothing