A Walk in the Coastal Redwood Forest

Good evening.

This is Nikki,

And I'd like to invite you on a restful walk with me in the Redwood Forest along California's Redwood Coast.

Since this is a story meant for sleep,

You might take a moment now to settle in,

Set your blankets and sheets just how you like them,

Fluff your pillow,

And drop out of any worries from the day.

Of course,

You're also welcome at any time to pause the story and write down any stray thought which might concern you or be forgotten later.

Then you can be on your way to a restful night of restorative,

Luxurious sleep.

As soon as you step out of the car,

You find yourself looking up.

You've been looking forward to this trip for a long time.

Redwood trees are the tallest on the planet,

Soaring as high as buildings 30 stories high and spreading roots 100 feet wide.

You wave goodbye to your trusted friend who happily agreed to pick you up on the other end of your hike,

Check that the laces on your boots are just right,

And head into the forest.

You're traveling light today,

Just some water and a snack and a light jacket tied around your waist in case a cool breeze or light mist should arise.

In moments,

You understand the sense of awe people experience in the presence of an ancient Redwood Forest.

You feel like you're walking into a cathedral,

Except there's no ceiling.

The sky seems supported by columns of unimaginably huge trunks,

The color of chocolate and caramel,

And wider around than you are tall.

Sounds seem to drop away,

Then occasionally echo against the gigantic tree trunks,

Which creates the combined sound of a perfect acoustically balanced concert hall and a soundproof room.

As you inhale,

You catch the subtle spicy aroma of the forest.

Each breath seems a little different.

First,

You detect the distinct woody scent of cedarwood,

Then a bit of the aroma of freshly turned soil after a thunderstorm,

And lastly,

A warm sweetness you can't quite place.

These scents may actually have clinical value.

You've read that in studies,

People who participate in shinrin roku,

Or forest bathing,

Show significant increases in natural immunity and decreased stress hormones.

After just 15 minutes of walking in the forest,

Blood pressure drops,

Anxiety is soothed,

And sleep improves.

These effects can be detected even a month after one has walked in the forest.

The effects are thought to be due to something called jyosmin,

The terpene which gives the forest that earthy tang.

The trail is easy to follow and wide enough for two to walk side by side,

Giving the mind nothing important to do but relax into its own space.

Bask in endless lush layers of viridescent green,

Pleasantly interspersed with dappled yellow sunlight and a deep forest auburn red,

Which is difficult to imitate outside of nature.

Your feet soon find a rhythm all your own,

Innately in tune with your breath and opening all your senses.

You've worn sensible socks and sturdy boots and feel them a conduit to the earth through the soles of your feet with a sense of vast,

Steady,

And deep energy.

You can feel the softness of the earth resonate upward through your body,

Through the joints of your knees,

Hips,

Spine,

Even up to the intersection where your neck meets your head.

You can feel it moving comfortably in rhythm with your steps and giving way just so,

Just right with each step,

As if you were implanted with a luxurious high-end suspension.

This is how your body was meant to be,

Thriving in tune with the natural world.

The earth sings this song through your senses,

Using each meridian as a string to carry a melody of calm,

Firm,

Reliable grounding,

And a message of an almost maternal feeling of protection.

Dipping into another deeply satisfying breath,

You step onto the soft trail.

You notice that already your breathing comes steady,

Rich with oxygen and atmospheric moisture,

And you notice that at its fullest point,

There actually seems a bit extra to take in.

It's so easy.

Without even your conscious volition,

Your lungs seem to take in a little more,

And then a little more,

A gentle wave of your ribs and lungs giving way,

Rising and falling,

With a feeling of gratitude for this chance to do nothing but breathe,

And witness one of nature's most astounding displays.

Some trees appear whimsically decorated as if by the fancy ladies of the church,

With a graceful draping of translucent,

Furry moss,

Falling like artisan silk scarves between every bench and pew.

When this woven textile moves in a light breeze,

It seems to strum the tree branches like a celestial harp.

Layers of ancient leaves create a soft,

Red dirt,

Rich in iron oxide,

Which feels almost powdery under your well-supported feet.

Pine needles crisscross the forest path,

Making an irregular and pleasing pattern ahead of you,

The soft,

Almost hollow sound of your own footfalls resonant with the low hum of the forest.

On the forest floor,

There waves a lush carpet of verdant fern leaves,

Fluttering lightly in a soft wind.

Once,

You pause to stand in the embrace of a hollowed-out giant redwood tree,

Feeling its quiet embrace,

And wondering at the incredible endurance of its kind through decades,

Even centuries of changing conditions,

Eminent downpours,

Coastal winds,

Snow,

Even fire.

And yet it stands tall as a high-rise and straight,

Providing shelter to a myriad of forest creatures and,

For right now,

You.

You allow your fingers to trace the rings of an old cut trunk and begin to count.

Ten rings.

Twenty.

Forty.

Eighty.

You lose count around one hundred.

You've heard the oldest living coastal redwood tree has been alive for at least two thousand two hundred years,

But foresters believe some may actually be much older.

Just between the bark and wood of a tree,

There is a layer called cambium.

The cambium is the growing tissue of a tree,

And each year it forms a layer of bark on the outside,

Wood on the inside.

This gives rise to a sort of wooden book of history,

Which invites you to imagine what this tree must have been witness to hundreds of years in the past.

The rings are wider in the middle,

Diminishing to teeny stripes you can barely see but still can feel as tiny ridges toward the outer rim.

This sturdy outer bark help these ancient trees survive hardships others cannot.

It can be a foot thick and rich in tannins,

Which help redwoods resist damage by insects,

Fungus,

Fires,

And disease.

You can feel that robust resilience deep in your ancestral being.

We are connected to these trees over centuries of evolution,

And we can also be extremely resilient beings.

In this place,

You can feel how perfectly adapted you are to the earth,

And the earth to you.

You attended a most informative ranger-led hike earlier,

And now remember there are three kinds of redwood trees.

Dawn redwoods,

Cousins to the ones which envelop you now,

Were thought to be extinct,

But rediscovered in 1944 by a forester in the Sichuan-Hubei region of China.

They grow up to six feet in diameter and 140 feet tall.

Their cones are about the size of a large olive and shed the tree once every year.

Another set of cousins,

The giant sequoias which grow on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada mountains in central California,

Grow almost as tall as the ones before you and can live even longer,

Up to 3,

000 years.

Their cones are the size of a chicken egg and can stay on the tree for up to two decades.

Your trees,

For now,

Are known as coast redwoods.

They are the tallest trees in the world,

Growing as high as 379 feet or 115 meters.

Their cones are similar in size to the dawn redwoods and shed every one to two years.

Fossil evidence suggests redwoods descended from a group of conifers which thrived across much of the earth when dinosaurs roamed the surface in the Jurassic period more than 145 million years ago.

As earth's climate cooled and dried,

These three types emerged and now live only in these three distinct areas.

So you appreciate your experience here today as all the more rare and remarkable.

You reach your hand out to touch one old giant and you feel a faint,

Deep vibration and wonder at its source.

You know redwood trees came into being on earth soon after dinosaurs left,

Before flowers,

Birds,

Or human beings.

This tree,

Or one intimately connected to it,

Was alive as many of today's major religions were being conceived.

While Jesus was born in Bethlehem and Muhammad was buried in a mosque in Medina,

Some of these gentle giants steadfastly grew ring after ring,

Each ring gradually diminishing in width.

Some of these trees may have already existed when Cleopatra began her reign as the last ruler of the Ptolemaic kingdom of Egypt,

Slowly growing bark as deep as your hand is long.

Some of these magnificent trees may have already been well established as the Maya people grew from small villages into large cities and Vikings roamed Europe and its surrounding seas in longships built from oak,

Spruce,

And larch wood.

And some living redwoods had grown mature by the time Europeans explored westward onto the North American continent and into the West Indies.

Sunlight dances in the air and on the ground,

A pas de deux with layers of softly swaying richly colored leaves,

Forest green,

Fluttering ferns,

And a soft underlayment of viridescent redwood sorrel,

Which reminds you of the clover you used to comb through as a child seeking the elusive four-leaved specimen for luck.

You think of luck and then think how at this moment you feel no need for such a thing,

But instead feel absolutely satisfied with the way things are currently.

You imagine yourself having roots like trees,

Strong and deep,

Having branches flexible enough to weather disappointment,

Challenge,

And change,

Triumph,

Success,

And joy.

Compared to their massive height,

Coast redwoods do not produce deep root systems.

Instead,

They spread and intertwine with other trees for support,

Which can last thousands of years.

In an elegant process using specially shaped branches and leaves,

Coastal redwoods derive up to 45% of their moisture from the coastal air and create their own micro-weather patterns,

Actually making their own clouds and rain.

Turpenes,

Which also give the trees their unique smell,

React with air and encourage the creation of fog,

Which helps supply the tree with hundreds of quarts of water it needs to sustain itself.

As this moisture condenses on leaves,

The tree rains,

Watering its own root system,

As well as the diverse community of organisms which depend on it for survival,

From insects to mushrooms and birds.

Meanwhile,

Each tree is helpful in sequestering carbon.

You remind yourself of this environmental bonus with another deep,

Satisfying,

Slow breath in and out.

You tip your chin upward to catch a bit of the falling,

Cool mist on your face.

It feels refreshing,

A soft rainbow of tiny droplets caressing your cheeks.

Here and there,

A light mist filters the sun's rays on their way from the sky to the earth's floor.

Now and then,

A shimmering,

Crystalline spider web,

Dangling tree to tree,

Glistens in this rare capture of light.

Further along the trail,

You notice a beautiful round web,

Sparkling amber and silver.

A moment later,

It is as if it has disappeared.

The light has moved,

And you realize with an inward grin that you were able to go from moment to moment without feeling any loss,

Instead feeling immense gratitude for the opportunity to have witnessed such a precious snapshot of nature in the first place.

With each inhale,

You feel you can sense a different aroma on the air.

Inhale,

Cedarwood,

Exhale.

Inhale,

Pine needle,

Exhale.

Maybe that's an earthy moss,

The tang of terpenes,

Or the sweetness of trillium flowering nearby.

Leopard lilies,

Wood strawberry,

And rhododendron add to the array of somewhat elusive scents and sights.

You exhale,

Looking forward to what may come next to your senses if you remain in tune with them.

Fern leaves shimmer in the light breeze,

Inviting you to also allow yourself to be accepting of the whimsical nature of events.

They will pass for you like the giant fern plant,

Leaving you not damaged but still whole,

Indeed stronger for having borne them.

Plants are always changing,

Growing new leaves,

Letting old ones drop,

And become nourishment for itself and the rest of the forest.

So with our experiences,

We create new opportunities and slough off unneeded thoughts and worries.

As you walk,

Your awareness moves upward and upward,

Along the steadfastly straight and narrow trunks of ancient conifers.

Your gaze is carried ever toward the sky,

Azure blue visible in uneven pathways between green branches.

Every so often,

A winged bird breaks the low rumble of faraway surf,

Or the scurrying of a pine marten or a red-bellied newt,

Busy doing their own work in the forest.

Warblers and swifts call to one another in a sing-song pattern,

Mid-conversation when you walked by and eavesdropped unintentionally.

If you're very lucky,

You might catch sight of the elusive marbled murrelet,

Which nest in the very upper reaches of old growth redwood trees,

But derive their dinners from the sea.

For millennia,

The Yurok people have found refuge,

Raised families,

And created beautiful art among these forests along the Klamath River.

Your heart feels free and calm,

And you are reminded of the Sanskrit passage,

Lokaha Samastha Sukhino Bhavanthu.

May all beings be happy,

Healthy,

And free.

You step softly around a bend,

And now you can hear in the far distance the faint boom of ocean waves and smell a hint of salt on the air.

You think you may even hear the sound of a foghorn very far in the distance.

Now your path seems to follow the course of a cheerfully burbling river,

And your feet crunch over stones rounded by time.

So many smooth stones in hues of mostly grey,

Which saturate to deeper tones of amber,

Beige,

Silver,

And charcoal where submerged by the cool river's flow.

You step over some smaller branches,

But note that some kind person,

Or likely persons,

Has removed any larger fallen trees from your path,

So you may move freely.

Eventually this flow widens.

A breeze brushes the exposed skin of your face and hands,

And you emerge onto a wide stretch of sandy beach.

It looks like the tide is going out.

Gratefully,

You remove your shoes and enjoy the feel of sun-warmed sand squishing between and beneath your toes.

Trusting your feet,

And your instincts,

You move toward the mesmerizing salt water of the surf,

Where you're delighted to submerge your tired feet and wiggle your toes experimentally,

More deeply into the sand.

The horizon is clear and blue,

And the sun is making its way toward the horizon patiently and with practiced splendor.

You stroll a bit in the tide toward a collection of semi-submerged boulders,

And your gaze is pulled toward a wavering play of purple and red light just beneath the surface of the water.

You are delighted to discover a large starfish unobtrusively attached to the underside of one of them.

You watch for a while,

Fascinated,

And marvel at the existence of such a seemingly unlikely creature.

These slow-moving asteroids use an internal hydraulic system to move,

Digest,

And adhere to surfaces,

And are known as a keystone species,

Ecologically.

Most can regenerate any of their five arms if lost or discarded for survival.

You marvel at yet another example of the incredible diversity and resilience of the natural world.

On another nearby rock,

You're delighted to also find a pearlescent bump,

Which turns to be hundreds of tiny barnacles.

You also note several dark-shelled,

Tiny muscles,

A few spiky sea urchins,

And lastly,

Just below the glisten of the water's surface,

Many tentacular arms waving slowly with the tide,

A giant emerald-green sea anemone,

Which looks as if it's exactly as relaxed as you feel.

The sea breeze,

The slowly undulating waves,

The sounds and scents of the redwood forest,

And the day's hike have culminated in a relaxed body and satisfied state of mind.

Nothing troubles you.

Nothing worries you.

Nothing seems insurmountable.

Everything is absolutely okay right now.

You check your watch and note that you have some time before your friend arrives,

So you can tie your jacket from around your waist,

Lay it down on the ground,

Set your shoes and water beside you,

And lay back on the warm sand.

There,

You feel a breeze more lightly,

A pleasant sensation on your skin,

And notice how perfectly the sand cradles the curves of your body.

You're content to enjoy the final hour of the sun's rays as it passes beyond the horizon into night and you pass into a gentle,

Deep,

And restorative slumber.

There you go.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.