My Nonprofit Reviews

A camping trip to Big Basin in the Santa Cruz mountains marked the first time our family explored a redwood forest. Our three children, ages eleven, eight and five had taken hiking trips with us throughout California's national parks but here we were in a fragrant forest of trees that stretched their red barked trunks straight up to the sky. It was a new experience. We were all captivated by their magnificance. More than any other forest we had visited, these forest giants, the coast redwoods known as sequoia sempervirens, seemed to be an expression of nature's grand mission.
One evening, at twilight, our family gathered 'round the campfire site with other fellow campers for a sing-along led by the ranger. We raised our voices in the soft mountain air along with others, the children laughed at the funny words and reveled in the joyful friendship surrounding us. But after a few songs, I was drawn again to the redwoods nearby, especially the family of trees just beyond the campfire. I broke away from the singers and found a place to stand in the giant tree's ancient circle. I felt sheltered by the tall trunks now smoothly rounded together. I was surrounded in a protective embrace. I looked up into their branches. The wonder of reddish bark and wood still standing over thousands of of years seemed to be giving me a deeper message. I was touched by their ability to multiply and stand shoulder to shoulder. Had Nature created a tree that would stand as a living symbol, a model for humans to imitate, to stand and survive? Was this circle of trees a revelation? Were they showing a deeper message, the importance of family?