Placido Flamingo and the Redwoods

Placido Flamingo and I on our trip back to the south spend a couple days in the California Redwood forests as we make our way down the Pacific Coast Highway.  The redwoods stretch from the Oregon border on highway 199 through northern California along highway 101 as it meets California highway 1 near Leggett.   
There are several famous trees in the area, the Immortal Tree and the Chandelier Tree where you can drive a small vehicle through it.  The most famous redwood is the General Sherman Tree (world’s largest tree) which is located close to Yosemite National Park in Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park.  I will have to see that giant on another trip since I am not traveling the inland roads this trip.
As I approached the California Coast at Crescent City I turned into Jedediah Smith State Park to drive the Howland Hill Road an unpaved road through a mighty stand of Redwoods.  Placido and I stopped at one of the pull offs and walked the trail.


We walk among the trees on a carpet of needles and leaves.  I hear the rustling of the wind moving through the tall branches way above us, the chirp of a bird and the silence.
Here there is no sound of civilization, no human sounds.  In this place the forest needs no other sounds, just silence.  The beauty of it is all around us.  Towering trees, a smell or two as the light wind brings with it the aroma of flowers or the nearby sea air.
 I’m reminded of the great cathedrals of Europe where everyone whispers in awe at what they see before them.  The trees are awe inspiring in their own right as they reach for the heavens blocking out the sky.  These trees were here long before the first settlers set foot in this country.
There is evidence of fires.  A tree has fallen because its trunk was damaged.  There are signs of wildlife where squirrels have been foraging for seeds and on the path hoof prints of deer that have gone before me.
 We follow the path wandering aimlessly through the trees and I wonder where it’s leading me. Although the trees are tall they can’t block out the sun completely and it shines down through the trees lighting up the path, welcoming me onward.
I wish to spend more time here but the road is calling me to continue as there are miles to go before I sleep.  

The ocean is near, waves pounding the surf . . .
and the Avenue of the Giants waiting like they have for centuries before nightfall.
Ice

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