Julia Butterfly Hill, activist and author of The Legacy of Luna, lived in a giant redwood for 738 days in an effort to save the forest in which it stood from the chainsaws of Pacific Lumber Company. On an otherwise ordinary day, on a car trip with friends in California, Julia experienced a moment that kindled her passion to try to save the redwoods.
As I crossed the highway, I felt something calling to me. Upon entering the forest, I started walking faster and faster, and then, feeling this exhilarating energy, I broke into a run, leaping over logs as I plunged in deeper.
After about a half mile, the beauty of my surroundings started to hit me. I slowed down for a better look. The farther I walked, the larger the ferns grew, until they were so big that three people with outstretched arms couldn’t have encircled them. Lichen, moss, and fungus sprouted everywhere. Around each bend in the path, mushrooms of every shape and size imaginable burst forth in vivid hues of the rainbow. The trees, too, became bigger and bigger. At first they seemed like normal trees, but as I leaned my head back as far as I could, I looked far up into the air. I couldn’t even see their crowns. Hundreds of feet high, they were taller than fifteen-, eighteen-, even twenty-story buildings. Their trunks were so large that ten individuals holding hands would barely wrap around them. Some of the trees were hollow, scorched away by lightning strikes, yet they still stood. These trees’ ancestors witnessed the dinosaur days. Wrapped in the fog and the moisture they need to grow, these ancient giants stood primordial, eternal. My feet sank into rich earth with each step. I knew I was walking on years upon years of compounded history.
As I headed farther into the forest, I could no longer hear the sounds of the cars or smell their fumes. I breathed in the pure wonderful air. It tasted sweet on my tongue. Everywhere I turned, there was life whether I could see, smell, hear, taste, or touch it or not. For the first time, I really felt what it was like to be alive, to feel the connection of all life and its inherent truth – not the truth that is taught to us by so-called scientists or politicians or other human beings, but the truth that exists within Creation.
The energy hit me in a wave. Gripped by the spirit of the forest, I dropped to my knees and began to sob. I sank my fingers into the layer of duff, which smelled so sweet and so rich and so full of life, then lay my face down and breathed it in. Surrounded by these huge ancient giants, I felt the film covering my senses from the imbalance of our fast-paced, technologically dependent society melt away. I could feel my whole being bursting forth into new life in this majestic cathedral. I sat and cried for a long time. Finally, the tears turned into joy and the joy turned to mirth, and I sat and laughed at the beauty of it all.
