When I walk among these old giants, these giants that drink up the colossal rain we have here, I hear the spirits of the trees. They call me "sister," and talk of the future. No matter the chaos of this world they are calm, for they have the perspective of the ages and the benefit of a little distance. I hike here for hours, my dog and I. I will always be in love with the way their large gnarled roots spread over the rain-washed earth and plunge into the ground. It is as if they are the very hands of Atlas with the wisdom of Athena.
I love the nurse trees of the temperate rainforest, the little trees nestled in what was once the trunk of another. The circle of living is right there, the old, the new, and I find a healthy sense of perspective there.
It's a mild climate here on the west coast of Canada, or at least the Vancouver region is. I guess it's the rain that gives it away, that we are a temperate rainforest zone. It falls as if it were God's power-shower out there, turning roads to rivers in seconds. We have the trees to show for it though and they are our real treasures and a home for so many animals. I guess living in other parts you aren't accustomed to the large carnivores - the bears, coyotes and wolves - but we are. You get used to it. You learn to live alongside nature and appreciate that other animals deserve to live in freedom too.
August among the evergreens felt so sacred, the red huckleberries were ripe for the picking once more and the air had that aroma that came with the approaching ambient season.
In this temperate rainforest the trees reach for the blue above. They grow so tall, as if they always knew they were born to become giants in this world.
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