If I set out about ¾ of a mile in a west-northwest fashion from my house, I find the closest access to the Pacific Ocean. If I go just a little farther, but east instead, I hit a redwood grove. From the shade of the trees, I can see the ocean.
Tonight I wanted to run towards the redwoods. I wanted to be wrapped in the sweet, sensuous woods and feel the silence of countless years. I wanted to find that simplicity, in the midst of complication; I wanted to remember ages that I have never known, the crises and the sorrows that have walked the path long before my time, all to eventually find resolve.
The ocean, so grand, settles me as well; I never knew before moving here what a water girl I am. I’ve had two offers lately from people who will teach me to surf, and so soon I will be on the waves in a way that I have never been. Excited does not begin to say how I feel about it.
But today, the redwoods, which awe, inspire, and comfort me. They cannot just be trees, but rather something more; they are a lifeline. A connection, to times past and to times to come, none of which can be stronger than the earth.
These beautiful trees: they hold secrets, and demand reverence. I am glad to offer it, tonight.