Quotation from: The Valley of the Moon

Written by: Jack London

They dropped down into the canyon, the road following a stream
that sang under maples and alders. The sunset fires, refracted
from the cloud-driftage of the autumn sky, bathed the canyon with
crimson, in which ruddy-limbed madronos and wine-wooded
manzanitas burned and smoldered. The air was aromatic with
laurel. Wild grape vines bridged the stream from tree to tree.
Oaks of many sorts were veiled in lacy Spanish moss. Ferns and
brakes grew lush beside the stream. From somewhere came the
plaint of a mourning dove. Fifty feet above the ground, almost
over their heads, a Douglas squirrel crossed the road--a flash of
gray between two trees; and they marked the continuance of its
aerial passage by the bending of the boughs.