The color deepened every moment, and the peaks of the
Coast Range burned with a rich vermilion light, like that of a live
coal. This faded gradually into as glowing a purple, and at last into a
blue as intense as that of the sea at noon-day. The first effect of the
light was most wonderful; the mountains stretched around the horizon
like a belt of varying fire and amethyst, between the two roseate deeps
of air and water; the shores were transmuted into solid, the air into
fluid gems. Could the pencil faithfully represent this magnificent
transfiguration of Nature, it would appear utterly unreal and impossible
to eyes which never beheld the reality.... It lingered, and lingered,
changing almost imperceptibly and with so beautiful a decay, that one
lost himself in the enjoyment of each successive charm, without regret
for those which were over. The dark blue of the mountains deepened into
their night-garb of dusky shadow without any interfusion of dead, ashy
color, and the heaven overhead was spangled with all its stars long
before the brilliant arch of orange in the west had sunk below the
horizon. I have seen the dazzling sunsets of the Mediterranean flush
the beauty of its shores, and the mellow skies which Claude used to
contemplate from the Pincian Hill; but lovely as they are in my memory,
they seem cold and pale when I think of the splendor of such a scene, on
the Bay of San Francisco.
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