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But lonely as the pine-forest is, and to a certain extent monotonous, it is impossible to tire of it The vistas of endless brown or silvery cylindrical stems, that rise to a height, sometimes of two hundred feet, have a charm that absolutely rivets the eye. There is a sense of youth and life and freshness about these mighty ever-springing giants, which imparts itself to the beholder, an exuberance of strength, of which the wayfarer seems to gather a portion, as the fragrance of the pinewood is wafted to his nostrils by every breeze that stirs the far-away shadowy branches, or shakes the golden cones to his feet
The Black forest, its people and legends
By Lisbeth Gooch Séguin