Dedicated to a friend who is visually impaired…
I’ve dreamt of walking through the redwoods; strolling among the giants and witnessing just a glimpse in time of the countless they themselves have witnessed. As I step onto the trail that so many have walked, I noticed the serenity that came over me. As if the forest whispered to my soul; “breath and let me envelope you”.
My eyes adjust to the absence of open light, observing the streams of sunlight breaking through the canopy. A kaleidoscope in reverse, the canopy acting as the lens. I am now in the kaleidoscope, colors change with every step. The ferns, that populate at the feet of these majestic trees, bowing in reverence to their strength and beauty. As the ground crunches under the weight of my powerchair, I am reminded that my dream has partially come true. I say partially because I cannot walk among these wondrous giants of steadfastness due to my ALS. But I am at peace with this.
There is a damp chill in the air, as the sun and it’s radiance is shielded by the canopy. As if the redwoods are protecting the forest floor and all that reside there from the harm too much sun can inflict. I get goosebumps, are they from the chill or from being in the presence of such a gentle gathering of beautiful testaments of time? Most likely both.
As I navigate among the monoliths, my eyes focus on the bark. Rugged, weathered and thick; a barrier standing guard to time and the elements. Each crevice I imagine created by gradual but constant growth. Waiting for the day it rejoins the forest floor to nourish the next giants in a cycle none present will witness.