(from a visit a few years
ago)
Leaving my car at the
entrance of the Mariposa Grove of giant sequoias, I walk slowly through the deep
snow and let the silence of the grove wrap around me, moving from one giant
tree to the next. I place my hand on the thick red bark of one and feel its
endurance.
Beneath my feet, its roots
connect to the roots of the other trees in the grove, and I feel the strength
of community. Leaning back, I marvel at the dimensions of a giant sequoia. In
its canopy, an ecosystem of life exists, far above the visible life I see from
the forest floor.
I feel insignificant here,
and imagine how dwarfed I’d look in a photograph. These 3000-year-old elders of
the mountains hold centuries of memories in their branches. In the quietness of
the afternoon, I feel the presence of shared wisdom.
