This past weekend I was one of those fortunate few to experience Muir Woods, the southernmost coastal redwood forest in California. I awed at their grandeur as I strode along the boardwalk that meanders through the forest floor. I became hungry after exploring groves of these giants, many of them born well before me, and ate my lunch on a bench encircled by behemoths who have witnessed more than their share of our history.
Later, as I hiked the upper trails threading through forests of coastal redwoods, ferns, clovers, and moss, words like ‘ancient,’ ‘sentinels,’ and ‘steadfast’ swirled in my mind. I could feel something forming, a poem, perhaps, or a statement to their tenacity and survival. This is what I came up with:
Lunch Among the Giants
Ancient sentinels stand steadfast
Guarding primordial woodlands;
I am but a speck in their imposing world.
They speak of tall tales;
For they have witnessed
Civilizations come and gone.
Born of fire and deeply rooted,
We envy their prominence,
For we shall never be
As steadfast as these trees.
I thought about how John Muir must have felt walking in these very woods, how lucky he was to have done it with no other humans (the place was mobbed with tour buses and hundreds of humans milling around making all kinds of noise). What an awe-inspiring experience that must have been, which, I’m sure, is how he came up with this quote: