The Ahwahnee Hotel sits in a meadow at the north-eastern end of Yosemite Valley. Built in 1926, it is one of the crown jewels of the National Park system. Nearby, El Capitan, a 4,000 ft. granite carapace, rises straight off of the valley floor while Yosemite Falls, a white ribbon in slow motion, cascades down. In the distance, high over half-dome, clouds return home. I first saw the Ahwahnee one late spring day in 1981. I had wandered onto a trail through a stand of Douglas firs, and came upon the entry to the hotel. Under a redwood timber canopy, cars pulled up, valets opened doors, and women and men in fancy clothes stepped out. Curious, I followed them into the lobby.

When I entered — first thing — the floors caught my eye. They were buffed and waxed to a worn-saddle finish. Broad expanses of veined color were cut-in with beautiful incised patterns, as though etched with a tool. Stone? I wondered. I bent down for a closer look, but couldn't figure out how they were made or of what they were made. Finally, I was amazed to realize, these floors are concrete.

When I stood to look around, I saw concrete everywhere, used as I had never seen it used before. I had to know more, so I signed on for the guided tour. We were told that the structure, to reduce the vulnerability to fire, contained little wood. Concrete had been cleverly adapted as finish material to the floors, fireplaces, walls, and beams.

But what really impressed me was how the concrete work merged with the artwork. In the foyer, bold geometric designs reminiscent of Native American baskets and Santa Clara burnished pottery, were inlaid into rust-colored acid-stained floors. In bands on the immense concrete beams, in the drapery, in the ironwork — native graphic designs resonated with the architecture. (Our guide, with some irony, reminded us that the native people who once roamed the valley and inspired these designs no longer made their home here.)

Each time I visit the Ahwahnee, I am refreshed. Strangers become community there, share the pleasures of great meals in a setting of great design, and enjoy the largess of the commons and the common decency of good government. I am inspired by nature and the nature of human creativity. I head out, eager to pursue the elusive balance between art, architecture, and concrete at home.