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We drive to the southern part of Yosemite National Park where we find Mariposa Grove, home to ancient and stately sequoias. How to describe these trees that withstand fires, drought and disease?
Statistics can only scratch the surface: the trees have the largest biomass in the world, they are the widest trees in the world, they produce two million viable seeds per tree – seeds that need fire to germinate – they can survive for more than 2000 years before toppling over from old age, and instead of resin they ooze a blood-red sap that contains tannin. The tannin is what seems to preserve and protect them so well. What is harder to describe is the feeling of awe and respect that these quiet giants command.
Silent sentinels
Fire and thirst have tempered you,
Warmth and rain have nourished you.
Flames have regenerated your seed,
And furred and feathered friends
Have spread your genes.
You have breathed the breaths of centuries,
And silently watched the histories of man and beast.
You have soldiered on,
Towering over generations of life and death.
You are the lifeblood of the Earth.
I am a mere ant that tries to embrace you,
A tiny human,
Insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
I mold my body to yours,
Wanting you to share your strength,
Feel your steadfastness,
Sense your loyalty to your place
And time in the Universe.
