Yosemite National Park

Feel the cool spray on your face from a waterfall thundering down a granite cliff so tall it seems to touch the sky. Breathe in the sweet scent of pine and cedar trees that have stood here for centuries. Look up, way up, at my giant sequoia trees, some of the oldest living things on Earth. They have watched silently as history unfolded around them. I am a land of towering stone monuments like El Capitan and Half Dome, which glow like gold in the setting sun. For thousands of years, I have been a place of wonder and strength. I am Yosemite National Park.

My story began long before any person walked my trails. Millions of years ago, giant rivers of ice called glaciers slowly crawled through my mountains. With incredible power, they carved and polished my cliffs, scooped out my deep valley, and left behind the breathtaking shapes you see today. For thousands of years, I was the beloved home of the Ahwahneechee people. They lived in harmony with my seasons, gathering acorns from my oak trees and fishing in my clear, cold Merced River. They called this valley 'Ahwahnee,' meaning 'place of a gaping mouth,' because of the way the valley walls looked. They knew every stream, every meadow, and every secret I held, and they cared for me deeply.

My quiet life began to change in March of 1851, when a group of soldiers called the Mariposa Battalion entered my valley. Not understanding the Ahwahneechee language, they gave me my modern name, 'Yosemite.' Soon, others heard stories of my beauty. An artist named Thomas Ayres arrived in 1855, and his drawings were the first to show the world my magnificent waterfalls and cliffs. His sketches, along with powerful stories from writers, traveled far and wide, making people realize I was a treasure unlike any other. This new attention sparked a big idea: that I should not belong to one person, but to everyone. This idea reached all the way to the President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln. On June 30th, 1864, during the difficult time of the Civil War, he signed the Yosemite Grant. This law set aside my valley and the Mariposa Grove of Giant Sequoias as a special place to be protected for public use, recreation, and enjoyment forever. It was the first time in history that a government had protected land just for its natural beauty.

One of my greatest friends arrived in 1868. His name was John Muir, and he loved me with his whole heart. He climbed my highest peaks, slept under my starry skies, and listened to the stories my winds and waters told. He saw that the Yosemite Grant only protected a small part of me, and he worried about the beautiful high country meadows and forests that were still in danger. So, he became my champion. He wrote passionate articles and books, urging everyone to see that all of my wilderness deserved to be saved. Because of his efforts, on October 1st, 1890, the United States government created a much larger Yosemite National Park around the original grant lands. Years later, another important visitor came to see me. On May 15th, 1903, President Theodore Roosevelt camped with John Muir beneath my giant sequoia trees. They talked for three days about the importance of nature, and their conversation helped convince the President to unite all of my lands under the care of the federal government in 1906, making me whole at last.

To make sure I would always be cared for, a new group was formed on August 25th, 1916: the National Park Service. Their job was to protect me and all my sister parks across the country. Today, I am still that place of wonder. I am a safe home for black bears, deer, and soaring eagles. I am a place where families come to hike my trails, climb my granite walls, and feel a sense of peace they can’t find anywhere else. I stand as a reminder of the power and beauty of the natural world. I am a promise kept through generations, a treasure for you and for the future. I invite you to come listen to my stories, walk my paths, and help me stay wild and beautiful for all time.