The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1911-02-17


denied to them in the soft
WV er seasons, the Winter
" Alps rear themselves aloft
more grandly self-revealed
than at any other time-still with
their brave and ancient pretence OF
being unconquerable. The black and
white becomes them best; and they
know it: the savage, iron black that
seems pitiless. and that shining. sill
very white that dazzles so piercingly.
They are really not summer things
at all, but creatures of the winter
the short, brilliant day of icy keen
ness, an dthe long night Of tempest.
wind and drifting SHOWS. Then. at
least, clothed SO simply in their robes
Of Jet and ermine. they stand in some
thing of their old true majesty.
solemn, terrible and great. Summer.
as it were. over-dresses them almost,
with its skirts. of emerald-bright mea-
dows and fringe of purple forests, and
all its flying scarves of painted air
and mist. The colors are SO brilliant.
the skies SO soft. the flowers climb
so high. Then winter comes. undress-
ing them slowly, from the head and
shoulders downwards, till they
emerge, austere in black and white,
naked and unashamed to the skies.
The associations of summer, Of
course. help very largely to empha-
else the contrast. Those stubborn
peaks that lie in January beneath
forty feet Of packed and driven snow.
on many a morning in July and Al
gust carried twenty tourists prattling
to one another Of the sunrise, suck
Ing thermos TASKS. giggling Of the
hotel dances to come, not few hav-
ing been bodily dragged up, probably.
by guides and porters overburdened
with the latest appliances for COM
fort and ease. And the mere thought
Of them all somehow makes the Alps
iwindle a little But in winter they
become free again, and hold uninter-
rupted converse with the winds and
stars Their greatest characteristic
becomes manifest-their silence. For
the silence of the Winter Alps is
genuinely overwhelming. One feels
that the whole world Of strife, clam
our and hustle, and with it all the
clash of vulgar ambitions among men,
has fallen away into some void
whence resurrection is impossible.
Stand upon one of the upper slopes
in mid-winter and listen: all sound
whatsoever has fed away into the re-
hottest corners of the universe. It
seems as though such thing had
never existed even, the silence is SO
enormous, yet at the same time more
stimulating than any possible music,
more suggestive than the sweetest in
strument ever heard. 1t encom-
passes the sky and the earth like an
immense vacuum.
In summer. there would be bells,
bells of goats and cows; voices, voices
of climbers, tourists. shepherds; peo-
pie singing. pipes playing, an occa-
sional horn. and even the putting and
whistling of at least several funicu-
laires in the valley. But now all
these are hushed and gone away
dead. Only silence reigns. Even
above. among the precipices ana
ridges, there is no crack and thunder,
Of falling stones. for the sun has
hardly time to melt their fastenings
and send them down; no hiss Of slid
ing snow, no roar Of avalanches. The
very wind, too, whirring over this up
per world too softly cushioned with
thick snow to permit "noise" -even
the wind Is muted and afraid to cry
aloud. / know nothing more impress
sive than the silence that overwhelms
the world Of these high slopes. The
faint ''sishing" Of the ski as one dies
over the powdery snow becomes al
most loud in the ears By comparison.
And with this silence that holds true
awe comes that other Characteristic
Of the Winter Alps their immobility:
that Is, mean, Of course. the immo-
bility, Of the various items that crowd
their surface In summer with move
ment. All the engines that produce
movement have withdrawn deep with
h their frozen selves. and lie smoth-
cred and asleep. The waving grasses
are still, beneath three meters Of
snow: the shelves-that In July 20 bus
Nv discharge their weights Of snow
into the depths stand rigid and fas-
tened to the cIiMs By nails Of giant
lce Nothing moves, slides. stirD or
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