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Walking with Giants

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I remember walking with giants in the Redwoods the marriage of a dirt path and dirt road two trials side by side that found each other just like my father and I side by side among the giants kicking the dirt around with our feet while walking no where slow. Remembering the smell of what seems now like ancient days.   The smell of dirt dust mixed with the unforgettable sweetness of the redwood needles, the wafting of eggs and bacon, on a chilly forest morning. I remember the giant guiding hand of my father guiding me into new wonderment, and his soothing voice amongst the whispering wind of those magnificent giants.  God, everything was so big and fresh at ten years of age.  When I think of those lost days, the only regret I have is the clock that spun round’ the hours of my days as a child is gone.  It’s impossible to explain to anyone who’s never been with these majestic giants, what they can do to you, and for you.  I remember climbing up on some big tree that had fallen down in who knows what century?   Realizing how long it took to walk from one end to the other end, and how “Big, Huge, and Incredible” they are.  For a child, it’s a memory that will not fade with time, but rather sink like a ship in the ocean forever.  It can also make an adult feel like child because of their massive overwhelming size and grandeur.

Memories of cotton candy at the fairground, with that food smell that keeps wafting up everywhere as you stroll along, its almost impossible not to have a corn dog or hot dog, something to satisfy that hunger that’s wells up in your gut.  That’s the type of memory I’m trying to describe to you.  Without experiencing these colossus beauties in person, is like describing the ocean near Tuolumne without ever seeing them.  These trees are truly the best way to wear your soul outside of you, on your skin, breathe in, and look straight up.  I dare you to not be overwhelmed or overcome with emotion. I dare you. Tears will take their toll and never again will you walk amongst the giants the same.

Looking up at these giants that are one hundred times taller that a three foot child, the overcasting tree shadows shiver through the shade and wiggle out into the sun. The sense of smell is sharpened to a razor edge.  The scent of the trees mixed with the backwoods of campfires, it sooths any complaint of a day, and you get to be reacquainted with Paul Bunyan and Blue, the giant Ox.  How many blue oxen’s and fifty foot men have you ever known?  Go and set souls free. 



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Ah... I can smell the woods from here! I too remember walking with giants and you put this memory into words beautifully! Keep up the good work!

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