“The grapes on a score of rolling hills are red with autumn flame. Across Sonoma Mountains wisps of sea fog are stealing. The afternoon sun smolders in a drowsy sky. I have everything to make me glad I am alive. I am filled with dreams and mysteries. I am all sun and air and sparkle. I am vitalized, organic.”
For Jack London there was no better place than earth. The best place of it all being his estate in Glen Ellen, California. Here Jack London’s words flow like a river through the green, lush hills. Here you breath the fascinating life of this great American author. Here you stand in the middle of ‘The Valley of the Moon’.
Like Hemmingway, Jack London was writer and bohemian. A fisherman who lived on the streets and sailed the seven seas before he took up the pen and became the great American writer who still moves thousands to this day.....
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