One of the gentle moments of the trip was the second when I had a chance to walk up to one of the giant trees, around in that particular spot for more than 2000 years, and it was so very nice to realize that the bark on that living giant was like fur, it was like thick brownish fur, soft and warm and not threatening at all. And there were little animals crawling on the giant buddy everywhere. And the fire scars looked like stories. Good stories. New Beginnings. The entire tree looked like a giant invitation. It was like an invitation to listen and to hear and to look and to see and to just somehow invite others to pay attention as well. Let's all grow. Together? It was incredible to walk in the presence of giants. My father pointed out that only the very core of the giant sequoia is as old as it claims to be. Well, yes, I am about seven as well, or just a few weeks in some parts. Maybe the idea of any living thing is what matters. It was great to touch the outer fur of the giant. No injuries anywhere. Really. Just healing somehow.

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This page contains a single entry by Witold published on October 13, 2005 5:24 PM.

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