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"When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence." -Ansel Adams

Sara and I knew we were in a special place. We were content with silence. What words can you use? We sat closely together on a wooden bench, alone. Our heads pulled unnaturally back like cranes, our eyes transfixed skyward. The morning rays of sunlight defined by thick, mysterious mist. Our toes cushioned by a carpet of fragrant forest floor seemingly endless in its depth. Surrounding us shoulder high a jungle of giant ferns, broad and green, tips dripping with fog-formed crystals sparkling in the limited light. The air scented of lemon incense and decaying bark, earthy, rich and original, almost primordial.

We left our bench momentarily, like small, shy children at a zoo, reaching out to touch the elephant’s trunk. These monoliths stand 30 feet wide at their foot and most would take over 20 adult humans linked hand to hand to encircle. Their deep, reddish brown skin so thick, so wrinkled that we can bury our fingers to the palm and still not feel the end. Fibrous, rough, and bejeweled with thousands of green mosses and lichens, the bark shows black scars flaming upward, testimony to some past, failed conflagration. But occasionally, the fire miraculously must have won and one can see what remains of a former giant, a hollow cylinder of ash and cinder, testimony to the fallibility of an organism seemingly so infallible.

Back on our bench, our eyes are again forced skyward. Rising over 35 stories, 300 ft tall, (the tallest measures 378.1 feet) is a crown of green in the distance. There are often no branches for the first 100 feet. Recent explorers have, for the first time, climbed to the canopy of stands only to find virtual hanging gardens of huckleberry bushes, mosses, lichens and ferns. An entire ecosystem of plants and animals lives above. If we could overcome our terrifying fear of height, where making a simple mistake would result in a swift, silent plunge to death, we would find a living level, so thick, so intertwined with trunks, branches and flying buttresses, that we could literally walk across the landscape in any direction. We would find blackened chambers, hollowed out by fire, so large we could sleep in them, and thick layers of soil sitting on limbs containing animal and plant life that are unknown to science.

The true irony of this experience is that we are in the presence of organisms that were in existence when dinosaurs roamed the earth, found on all major continents and with no real natural enemies; organisms whose skin contains chemicals that repel all insect threats and a single individual can produce over 6 million seeds so small it takes over 125,000 to make a pound and yet only 5% of the seeds ever germinate and few if any survive. To think that only 4% of the original Giants exist on 131,000 acres of the original 2,000,000 acres of territory dismays us. They cling to existence on a thin 450 mile strip along the Pacific coast beginning in southern Oregon and ending just south of Monterey, CA. For these gentle giants do have enemies. The ever constant threats are wind and fire.

When the storms of the Pacific Northwest ravage the coast, these huge creatures often “calve” or break off. The sound is deafening and can be heard for miles. Tons of biomass hurtle to the earth and create a detonation zone or debris field at the base that looks like a war zone. Often the shallow root system of toppled giants can stand 30 feet in the air. Fire born from lightening also strikes, shattering spires and starting ground fires that destroy all but a few seedlings that lack the thick protective bark.

But the greatest enemy of the greatest living organism on earth is man. These incredible structures have long had a price on their heads. Current prices on the largest can reach over $149,000 per victim with profits of well over $250,000 in the resulting products from one alone. These giants have made men rich and women widows and were, until as recent as 40 years ago, hunted down without restriction.

As Sara and I left the grove, we could not help but wonder what stories the ancient stumps scattered among the survivors could tell. So huge you could park a truck on top, one cannot help but try to imagine what world events they have witnessed and what challenges the men who brought them down faced. But mostly, the stumps evoke a sense of sadness. What have we done?

Sara and I were privileged to spend over two weeks among the largest and tallest trees the world has ever sustained– Sequoia semperviren, (Sequoia is Cherokee for “hog” and sempervirens for “ever green”. These behemoths defy all sense of size and proportion. They humble you and every living thing except their nearby genus and species.

National Public Radio Host Ketzel Levine describes the experience this way:

"Moving through a grove of immense redwood is so surreal that it's tough to get your bearings. Some of these creatures put down their first, thirsty roots 2,000 years ago. To describe their beauty is to miss their menace; to speak of their size is to deny their grace. Fallen logs the size of beached whales... charred stumps the size a team of horses high and wide... and in the air, the scent of earth, bark and compost, stirred with the wind.”

When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence. Ansel Adams

What follows are “inadequate images”. They are, however, our humble best.

For those interested in reading about the Redwoods, I highly recommend The Wild Trees, a recent New York Times best seller by Richard Preston, author of the Hot Zone. It is the type of book you just don’t want to end.