This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise
somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once;
a shower is forever falling; vapor ever rising.
Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and
gloaming, on seas and continents and islands, each
in its turn, as the round earth rolls.
Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized
people are beginning to find out that going to
the mountains is going home; that wilderness
is a necessity; and that mountian parks and
reservations are useful not only as fountains
of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life!