Walking in the Redwoods

When the bulldozers arrived at our apartment complex to fix and replace a broken water main, I thought repairs would be complete in a matter of days.

Think weeks instead with deep open pits, piles of dirt and concrete chunks everywhere, . But this Saturday morning, in a flurry of activity at 7:00 am, with temperatures hovering in the 50 degree range, the crew arrived for the final tarring. I shall not have to play 'truth or dare' on negotiating blind corners around our parking garages, hoping that every other driver has already had morning coffee. Hooray! 

So where would I rather be? 

How about hiking amidst the redwoods along the California coast?

Today's poem:



On hiking among the redwoods

You are as rare
as a redwood tree,
not quite thousands of years old,
not even very tall,
but even as you age,
steady and present,
exuding calm with each breath, 
through the change of seasons.
we walk again, you and I,
through this precious shaded grove,
in the early morning fog,
the redwoods around us
hundreds of feet high,
Spanish moss festooned on alder,
our feet crunching on a carpet of pine needles.
It is enough.