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The rainfall of Southern California for a number of years is shown in the following table, which tells the story of minimum dampness and malarial conditions, and a maximum number of sunshiny days in the year.But one day this fog, in a long, feathery, fan-shaped finger, is seen creeping along the slope of the Sierras in the morning.

They appointed a committee of well-known citizens, and, with a photographer to illustrate their experiences, started one day in February, or mid-winter, to prove the story.The cool breeze was coming in from the Pacific, sweeping up the mesa of the old town, bowling over acres of golden poppies, robbing the field of wild forget-me-nots of its perfume and carrying it over the Mission wall, to mingle with the floral incense of the old church garden.

The saddles are uncinched, the horses walked up and down and given a drink when cooler.CAMPING out or living in the Sierra Madre in a rainy winter is not without charm and excitement.The bass had towed the boat about, giving them a battle royal, and had finally reached kelp and fouled, but it was still hooked.The high fog of Southern California nights and days is one of its blessings.Please reload an old save to confirm if the bug is still happening.Find complete details of DDA Flats Sector 22 Dwarka,. When choosing a real estate agent to buy or. The ripples of development spread all over the city.Rolling through the chaparral, the attractive paisano or road-runner, with fiery eye, runs ahead, refusing to take to the brush, until nearly caught, then rising and flying low to plunge down again.The Sierra Madre are white with snow, a long range as high as Mount Washington, and farther to the east Mount San Antonio, ten thousand feet in air, and Mount San Jacinto, still higher,--domes of purest white against the azure of the cloudless sky.This is protected by the eaves, and is on the south side of the house, yet in eight years it has never been touched by frost, though I have found ice in an Indian mortar near by in the early morning.

The boat was so small and light that my companion lay in the bottom to preserve the equilibrium, and I attempted to gaff the monster by holding the line in my left hand, gaffing it amid a terrific flurry.The death or finish was three miles from the start as the crow flies.Its vast enclosure, its long line of arched corridors, the belfry, its tiled roof, the artistic chimney, the great dome, half fallen in, razed to the ground in the earthquake of 1812, are all fascinating parts of the whole.He was well proportioned, and comparing him to the brook trout I saw that he had larger eyes, a small mouth, the head more salmon like.The American resort has the advantage in climate, is always delightful, indeed perfect, winter or summer.Already some are left far behind, but a few horses are well to the fore and running at a pace, that considering the country, would bring a cheer from the grandstand at Ascot.Another foot, until ten or twelve had gone, then the rod rose in a strong, well-directed strike, and the game was on.As I watched this lake of the imagination, I saw the rise of the genii of Cochise from its mirror-like surface.

The compensation is a glance at one of the greatest deserts of the world, a vast dreamland, which some winters is a bed of flowers, and in summer is often a fiery furnace, a menace to life.Some of the fish are playing along the surface, churning the blue water into silver.

Here one may see the great blue heron, the least bittern, and at times, farther in, the wood ibis, that has a penchant for barley fields and rolling mesas near the sea.

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The angler springs to his feet, that he may see the splendid move, and reels for his life.For these figures I am indebted to Mr. H. Elms of Avalon, who kept the records for six or seven years.Perhaps you are with the master of the hounds in the lead where you can see every move of horse, hound, and game.

Portala, the first Governor of California, is said to have named San Juan Capistrano, having been impressed by its beauties of location, its restfulness, its tranquillity.I hunted the hounds about twice a week with a friend, and as they did not have sufficient exercise our experiences became a part of the history and traditions of the club, often at our expense.As the sun sinks behind the western peaks of the Coast Range, a splendid transformation scene is staged on slope and mesa.San Luis Rey is about eighty miles from Los Angeles and four miles to Oceanside, from which the coach turns away to the south along El Camino Real.

The sun., September 17, 1872, Image 1 - Chronicling America

But we are off again, rolling down to the beach, with its long line of shining sands, calling to mind New England shores.We pass through Hueneme, then turn to the east, passing Camulos and so on to San Fernando.He may wander down the stream, or perhaps climb up the sides and stroll out on to the west mesa, hiding in the little washes where the wild rose fills the air with perfume, feeding here and there as his fancy dictates.

There is always some siren of the road to lure you out into the fields and far away to distant mountains that lie faintly on the edge of the world to the east.The German doubtless thought he had been attacked by wolves as he fled, and the scene of action was changed to his house and piazza.Some weakened by spawning or other causes can be landed in ten minutes with a club-rod, and strong women have landed this fish, but the one-hundred-and-fifty-pound tuna in the best.If one does not bag his ducks or geese there are the charms of the swamp, the variety of animal life, the strange sounds to listen to--all compensations.



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